


real love makes your lungs black (real love is a heart attack!)

by bratlas



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, eating disorder warning (nothing graphic tho), i’ll add more tags once i figure out what to tag this, johnny and ten are tired and gay, johnny’s mad at the world, punk band!00 line, runaway!mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 09:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14517729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bratlas/pseuds/bratlas
Summary: It was never really just about the band.





	real love makes your lungs black (real love is a heart attack!)

**Author's Note:**

> dhajdjskd hi everyone ive been working on this for THREE MONTHS im glad for it to be out of my notes for gOOD  
> uhhh this is unbeta’d so like i said in my last fic this may be missing important plot points bc im a messy writer. forgive me.  
> i hope u all enjoy this it was an ADVENTURE to write

 

 

 

 

 

A runaway kid that’s never found, never returned home safe and sound, is something that you only see on TV. You think it only happens in dramatic shows, or that it happens to other families, but it’ll never be your family. Of course not; what is there to run from?

  
As it turns out, plenty. Mark can still hear his parents screaming at each other over the water bill as he climbs out of his window. The wind whips right through the holes in Mark’s hoodie, and he nearly considers going back inside. Mark grits his teeth and picks his bag up from where he’s dropped it out the window before himself. If things couldn’t get any worse, it begins raining.

  
Mark stands across the street from his house, taking in the tiny little home one last time. The porch steps, sunken and slowly rotting with age, the patched-up hole in the roof where a tree fell over during the Worst Storm Ever. Mark can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face, remembering the Worst Storm Ever. The power had gone out early, and Mark had sat in the dark with his mother, surrounded by candles and sharing rice cakes. Mark was in fifth grade. As they sat there, wind howling and rain pounding against the outside of the house, Mark’s mother taught him old songs her own mother sang to her when she was his age. And when they heard the crash of the tree falling into their roof, she tried to smile.

  
A shiver, one of the involuntary ones that makes you look like you’re having a seizure, shakes Mark out of his thoughts. The realization that, whilst deep in thought, he’s taken a step closer to the house, only drives Mark’s resolve deeper.

  
“Bye. Love you,” Mark mumbles. He can hardly hear himself over the rain, and Mark thinks it’s awfully ironic that tonight of all nights may just contain the second Worst Storm Ever.

 

 

 

 

At the worst of times, hitchhiking is still generally a bad idea. However, the second Worst Storm Ever is on day two and Mark isn’t sure how much colder or wetter he can get at this point. So, Mark strolls along the side of the highway, sticking his thumb out. A few people honk, one even yells out their window for Mark to get off the side of the fucking road, but no one stops. Mark’s beginning to think it’s a sign and is contemplating just how pathetic he’d seem returning home, when an old Volkswagen bus pulls over, and a boy who can’t be much younger than Mark sticks his head out of one of the windows.

  
“Hey! You cold?” He shouts over the torrential rain, revealing slightly crooked teeth in a wide grin.

  
“You tell me,” Mark yells back. The boy cackles and disappears from sight. A moment later, the bus door opens and the same boy leans out, waving to Mark.

  
“Come on, we have towels and dry socks.”

  
That’s all it takes for Mark to hurry onto the bus.

  
“First of fucking all, since when do we let random strangers in? Second of all, you empty your fucking pockets. Dump your bag too, I don’t trust you.” A second boy, this one with dyed red hair and a displeased curl to his lip, points a terrifyingly long and sharp-looking switchblade in Mark’s face.

  
“Jesus, Donghyuck! His fucking lips are turning blue, do you really think he’s about to try and attack us?” The first boy turns to Mark, half-smiling apologetically. “Disregard everything he just said, I’m Huang Renjun.”

  
“Mark Lee. Any chance we could get a move on those dry socks?” Mark grimaces. Renjun seems to remember that Mark is soaked to the bone, standing there looking pitiful as he shivers and drips rainwater onto the bus floor. Renjun nods his head, gently pushing Mark towards a seat. The interior of the bus has been fixed up, all of the seats behind the front ones cleared out to make space for an old futon (which Mark collapses onto, wiggling the toes on his right foot to try and regain the feeling), sleeping bags, and at the very back of the bus in its trunk, guitar cases and a broken-down drumset.

  
Mark feels Donghyuck’s eyes on him, scrutinizing furiously. Donghyuck is still twirling the knife between his fingers, relocating his glare to Renjun when the brunet digs through a bag under the front seat and emerges with a pair of socks, as well as a shirt and hoodie.

  
“Shut up,” Renjun tells Donghyuck, coming over to Mark. “You wanna take some of that stuff off? You’re drenched.”

  
He’s too cold and tired to even care about complete strangers seeing his body not even three minutes into being on this bus. Mark strips off his sweatshirt and the layers underneath, wincing at the wet plop the pile of clothes make when he drops them in front of himself. Renjun hands Mark the folded clothes he’s holding; Mark eagerly pulls the long-sleeved tee and sweatshirt on in rapid succession.

  
“We can wash and dry all your stuff when we get to our next thing,” Renjun reassures, watching Mark attempt to untie his shoes with clumsy, numb fingers. “You need some help?”

  
“This is embarrassing. Yeah, please,” Mark mumbles, cupping his hands around his mouth and blowing on them in an attempt to warm up. As Renjun leans down to work the double knots free, he asks lightly, “So, just out of curiosity, why were you walking along the highway when Mother Nature’s fuckin’ pissed and it’s thirty-seven degrees out?”

  
“Y’know,” Mark shrugs as Renjun gets one shoe done and moves onto the other, “just decided to take a hike.”

  
“Ha, ha. But I’m gonna need you to be honest, or I might not be able to stop Donghyuck from kicking you back out there.” Renjun sits back, and Mark toes his shoes off, sighing deeply.

  
“Uh, I left home. So my parents don’t have to support a kid anymore. Because we were fucking poor as fucking shit.” Mark pulls his wet socks off, avoiding looking at anyone as he pulls on the dry ones Renjun handed him.

  
“Won’t they worry or some shit?” asks the boy in the front passenger seat, shaking frizzy silver hair out of his eyes. He’s turned around in his seat, eyeing Mark curiously.

  
“They’re worrying about our power and water getting shut off, probably haven’t even noticed I’m gone,” Mark responds, pulling at a loose string on his wet jeans. Renjun peers sympathetically up at him. He opens his mouth to speak, and then seems to rethink himself, eventually settling on,

  
“Unfortunately the rest of the bags with more clean clothes are in the other car, otherwise I’d offer you pants.”

  
“Or you can just take them off if you’re not a pussy, those can’t be comfortable,” chimes the silver-haired boy. Renjun snorts, shrugging. “I mean, yeah, you could do that too if you’re not weird about sitting pantless with a bunch of new people.”

  
So, there Mark sits, in a sweatshirt that smells like weed, his boxers, and mismatched socks. Renjun offers him some Redbull and a blanket, at least.

  
“So what’s the deal with you guys?” Mark asks, peering around. Donghyuck shoots him a glare and goes back to writing in the notebook balanced on his knee.

  
“We’re the world’s shittiest punk band. I’m Jeno, by the way,” the boy with the silver hair grins at Mark. Jeno’s septum ring glints in the low, gray light streaming through the windows. Jeno points to the kid driving, continuing on, “That’s Jaemin.”

  
“Eat my ass,” Jaemin grumbles from the driver’s seat.

  
Peering around at them all, Mark raises an eyebrow. “So what’s your band’s name? And why are you guys so shitty?”

  
“Shame Bait. And, only two of us actually learned to play our instruments. The other two just do their best,” Jaemin answers. Jeno rolls his eyes. “It’s so patronizing when you say it like that. You guys would be nothing without me. You hear me? Nothing.”

  
“Don’t oversell yourself, you can hardly keep a beat.” Donghyuck deadpans.

  
“I can beat your ass.” Jeno blinks at the other, his expression flat.

  
“Fight,” Renjun mumbles. Jaemin grabs an empty coffee cup from the holder and whips it behind him. Mark’s impressed when the blind throw actually meets its target: Renjun’s face.

  
“Stop encouraging them to fight when you know they fucking will!” Jaemin seethes, returning his hands to the steering wheel, white-knuckled.

  
“Aw, is the widdle bitty baby gwumpy? You need some sweep?” Jeno coos, reaching over to tickle underneath Jaemin’s chin.

  
“Jeno, I swear to fucking god, I’m not in the fucking mood, I’ve been driving this fucking car for nearly eight hours–“

  
“Oh my fucking god, boo hoo. Donghyuck, tell Johnny we need to pull over at the next rest stop.” Jeno rolls his eyes, patience clearly worn thin. Everyone’s is; that’s not hard to tell. Renjun stares down at his hands, picking at the skin around his thumbnail. Donghyuck takes out his phone, typing away silently.

 

 

The rain has finally let up by the time they reach the rest stop. Mark’s dozed off, almost covered completely by the blanket. He wakes up to Renjun gently shaking his shoulder.

  
“Hey, I got you pants. Are you hungry?”

  
Rubbing his eyes and sitting up slowly, Mark nods his head. Renjun drops a pair of black jeans not unlike the ones Mark had been wearing before into Mark’s lap. “You ‘n Jeno are the same size, I checked.”

  
“Thank you so much,” Mark mumbles sleepily, pushing his mostly-dry hair out of his face. Renjun offers him a grin before walking towards the door, stepping halfway out. “We’ll be inside. Look for a really tall loud dude with nice lips, that’s our bunch.”

  
Mark waits until Renjun’s gone to push the blanket off and pull the pants on. His shoes aren’t completely dry yet, but they aren’t soaked anymore either, so Mark just puts them on and deals. Pulling his hood up, Mark leaves the bus, jogging towards the building before the wind has a chance to nip too harshly at him right when he’s gotten warm again.

  
Oddly enough, Renjun’s directions work quite clearly. Mark locates the tall guy with pretty lips in a matter of moments, and everyone else right after.

  
“You look like you walked in the rain for a really long time,” Jeno comments blandly from the booth he’s seated in, one arm around a scowling Jaemin’s shoulders. Jaemin is shoving insistently at Jeno’s side, even digging his knuckles into the other’s ribs, pushing Jeno’s face away. Mark admires how Jeno smiles wanly at him as if none of it is even happening.

  
“They’re always like that,” Renjun informs Mark, “but anyways, let me introduce you to everyone else.”

  
There’s another four boys joining them; two of them tower over everyone else. The tallest one, a sultry-faced guy with dark hair hanging over his eyes, doesn’t smile at Mark, instead cracking all the knuckles on his hands one by one. The other one with the nice lips, however, offers Mark a grin that crinkles his eyes at the corners.

  
“That’s Yukhei. He’s like a golden retriever, or like, the sun or something, but his technical title is our guitar tech. Yukhei, this is Mark. He’s on tour with us now.”

  
“I am?” Mark asks.

  
“He is?” Donghyuck hisses.

  
“Good lord, you need a goddamn Xanax. I don’t have the fucking patience for you right now, fucking calm down.” Greaser Hair Dude clenches his jaw, glaring Donghyuck down.

  
“That’s Johnny,” Renjun whispers, snorting quietly when Donghyuck shuts his mouth and resigns to sitting across from Jaemin and Jeno. (Mark has no idea how, but by this point Jaemin’s given up, his face tucked into Jeno’s neck.)

  
“Don’t introduce me to people for me.” Johnny flicks Renjun on the forehead.

  
“What the fucking fuck?” Renjun jumps to hit Johnny on the side of the head.

  
“Nah, I’m just fucking with you. What’s up, bro?” Johnny flashes a sneer, holds his hand out and does one of those weird straight guy handshakes. Mark just kind of lets it happen.

  
“You’re....ugh. Anyways, this is Ten. He’s our manager-ish. He makes sure we don’t kill each other, let’s say that.” Renjun nods towards Ten, whose grin dazzles Mark just a little. Soft black curls poke out from under his beanie.

  
“Nice to meet the kid they pulled over for.” Ten tilts his head to the side.

  
“Thanks?”

  
“Yeah.” Ten shrugs and turns towards Johnny, tiptoeing and cupping a hand around the taller’s ear to whisper something. Johnny’s expression goes odd for a second, and then he just shrugs one shoulder. Mark chooses not to wonder too much about it, as the final one waves at him.

  
“This is Taeyong, he’s a sweet angel darling. He’s kind of quiet because he thinks his English is bad but that’s just not true,” Renjun gestures to Taeyong, who offers Mark a sweet smile, appearing sheepish at Renjun’s compliment.

  
“Nice to meet you.” Mark returns the smile, and Taeyong’s eyes sparkle a little as his own widens to a grin. “You too.”

  
“Isn’t he cute?” Ten ruffles Taeyong’s hair, and the latter blushes, eyes widening innocently. Renjun nudges Mark, making a quiet gagging noise.

  
“Homos. All of them,” he mumbles. “So cute it’s gross.”

  
“Wait, you mean like they’re all dating–“

  
“Dad,” Jeno complains. “Buy me food.”

  
“You have money,” Johnny retaliates, and Ten snickers, “You just. Respond to it at this point.”

  
“They’re never going to stop so I might as well. I fucking hate you, we can get food,” grumbles Johnny, taking out his phone. “Maybe. Let me check my bank account, money’s tight.”

  
“I’ll be right back,” Johnny mumbles a moment later, and without looking up from his own phone screen, Ten responds, “You’re disgusting.”

  
“You think it’s hot. Mark, come outside with me, I’m gonna pressure you into smoking cigarettes.” After handing his credit card to Ten to pay for food, Johnny nods towards the exit. Mark’s too scared of Johnny to do anything but follow after him.

  
“I’m not really gonna make you smoke. You’d probably puke.” Johnny cups his hand around his lighter, finally getting the cigarette to burn after a few tries. “I have to talk to you about something though, ‘cos it’s my responsibility as the adult here or some bullshit.”

  
Mark gulps. He’s almost positive what this is about, and Johnny’s silence as he takes his phone from his pocket only makes Mark’s heart beat faster unpleasantly.

  
Johnny blows out some smoke, staring off into the distance and jumping from foot to foot. “Jesus fucking dick, it’s cold. But anyways.”

  
Johnny turns his phone screen towards Mark. His stomach drops. Mark’s own school picture stares back at him, framed in a missing child notice.

  
“Ten’s more observant than I am. He’s the one that recognized you.” Johnny stows his phone back in his pocket. “Listen. I can’t make you go back if you don’t want to, and I’m not going to waste my time trying when I have to fucking worry about Donghyuck threatening to stab Yukhei for talking too loudly. But like, I don’t need amber alerts going up once people realize you got into that fuck-ugly bus.” Johnny stares into Mark’s eyes, raises his eyebrows slightly. “You following me? I’m on your side. But there’s a pay phone here. Call your folks and tell them you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere. That you’re with friends.”

  
Johnny’s nearly done with his cigarette by now. He digs through his pockets, drops some change into Mark’s palm. “There. I hope you’re not picky, because you’re eating whatever I get you unless you’re deathly allergic to it.”

  
“That’s fine,” Mark mumbles, stunned. Johnny tosses his cigarette butt, lingering as if he wants to say something more. It’s only for a moment, and then, Johnny’s strolling back inside, muttering under his breath.

  
It feels like the phone rings for ages. But, finally, when the line picks up, Mark feels a tightness in his chest he hadn’t even been aware of before loosen.

  
“Hello?” His mother sounds tired, frustrated, and suddenly Mark’s doused in guilt colder than the rain he’d walked away from home in.

  
“Hey, Mom, it’s me.”

  
“Mark? Oh my god, you’re okay, we’ve been so worried-“ her voice breaks off, and Mark’s throat aches, tears well up in his eyes.

  
“I’m fine, Mom, you don’t have to worry. I love you,” Mark stares down at the ground. The tears finally fall.

  
“I love you too, baby, but where did you go? What happened?”

  
“I-um, I left, Mom.” It hurts more than Mark ever expected to admit. “I’m safe. I’m with good people, okay?”

  
“Why did you leave?”

  
“I–“ Mark’s voice catches in his throat. “I don’t want you to worry about me anymore. Don’t worry about college anymore. I never wanted to go anyways. You and Dad just look after yourselves, okay? I love you guys.”

  
“Mark–“

  
Mark squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. “I have to go, Mom. I love you. I’ll be okay.”

  
Hanging up is probably the hardest thing Mark has ever done in his life. Aside from, like, trigonometry. Wiping his eyes on his sleeves, Mark pulls his hood lower over his face, and returns inside. Everyone’s seated in two booths; Jaemin, Jeno, and Renjun in one side, Donghyuck alone on the other. In the opposite booth, Ten and Taeyong sit together, Johnny and Yukhei across from them. Johnny leans around Yukhei to point at Renjun, and flip him off, blank-faced.

  
“Thanks for the donut, crackhead stepdad that’s not actually my stepdad but I got tired of explaining that he’s never planning to marry my mom so instead of saying my mom’s boyfriend every time I just say he’s my stepdad.” Jaemin sips from Jeno’s chocolate milk. Johnny has a spasm of laughter that turns into coughing, and Taeyong whispers in Ten’s ear. Ten listens, and then smiles, explaining quietly,

  
“It means a person who does drugs. Don’t worry about the rest, it’s Renjun being dumb.”

  
Nodding his head slowly, Taeyong comes to lean it on Ten’s shoulder, wrapping his hands around his cup of coffee to warm them up.

  
“It’s funny ‘cos it’s true,” Johnny hiccups. “Oh, by the way, Mark, I got you a bagel but Donghyuck pushed it off the table because he’s an asshole. It’s on the floor now. I’ll get you another one at some point before we leave. I’m busy right now.”

  
“Busy with what?” Jeno scoffs.

  
“Being my very gayest–fuck are you looking at? Mind your business.” Johnny snaps at a family gawking in slight disbelief at the group as they pass through the aisle of booths. Yukhei jumps a little beside Johnny, eyes widening. Ten cackles quietly into his iced coffee.

  
“Why the hell are you drinking cold coffee when it’s freezing out?” Jaemin points out. Ten squints at the other as if it should be obvious. “I’m fucking gay.”

  
“There’s only two types of gays. Tea gays and cold coffee gays,” Yukhei agrees, sipping his own gay-ass earl grey. Jeno clears his throat. “This is black coffee gay erasure.”

  
“You aren’t even drinking coffee,” Taeyong chimes quietly.

  
“Oof.” Johnny sips his drink. (It’s hot cocoa, not coffee, but only Ten knows that.) Jeno reaches for his chocolate milk, only to find that Jaemin has drunk the rest of it.

  
“I’m killing myself immediately.” Jeno runs both hands through his hair, looking extremely stressed. “You don’t understand. I got like three sips of that.”

  
Jaemin takes another bite of his donut and looks out the window, unbothered. Jeno sets his hands flat on the table, staring down at it with a defeated expression.

  
(Before they leave, Johnny gets Mark a new bagel as promised. He also gets Jeno another chocolate milk, while calling him a little bitch.)

 

 

 

 

It’s dark by the time they’re almost to the next venue. Renjun drives, and Mark shares the futon with Jeno and Jaemin, who sleeps with his head on Jeno’s shoulder. Donghyuck’s in the passenger seat, but he’s turned around to look at Mark. The distaste in his eyes has only dulled marginally since they first met.

  
“How old are you?” Donghyuck crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow.

  
“Seventeen.” Mark picks at his cuticles.

  
“Yeah, us too,” Jeno mumbles, shooting Donghyuck a glare and pointing to Jaemin before putting the same finger to his lips in a shushing gesture.

  
“Fuck you,” Donghyuck mouths, turning to face the front again. Jeno rolls his eyes.

  
Mark’s surprised to see the venue attracting an impressive crowd for a band that calls itself shitty. “You sure you guys are as bad as you say?” he murmurs to Jeno, nodding towards the people lining up to be let in.

  
“Gay depressed teenagers like us, I dunno.” Jeno shrugs the shoulder that Jaemin isn’t sleeping on. Renjun drives around to park behind the venue, rolling down his window to talk to the guard at the gate.

  
“No–sir, we’re the band, please let us in–do you not see the words Shame Bait on the side of this bus? The guys behind us are with us too. Thank you,” Renjun huffs when the gate finally opens, pulling in and parking in the lot.

  
“That happens far too often,” Donghyuck groans. “You’d think they’d know what we look like so they can let us in.”

  
“We’re not that famous yet.” Jeno deadpans, sighing as he gently shakes Jaemin to wake the other. “Nana. Wake up, we’re here.”

  
“You guys just show up and play? No rehearsals or anything?” Mark asks incredulously. Jeno laughs. “Yep. We don’t have a solid setlist or anything, we just do our songs and like, some covers.”

  
“We’re not an official band with our shit together in the slightest, we just book wherever we can play and jam the fuck out.” Jaemin yawns, stretching his arms above his head. “It’s fun, though.”

  
“Why can’t one of you ever drive the bus?” Renjun complains to Yukhei as he helps them unload their instruments.

  
“You’re asking the wrong person, I’m gay and therefore don’t have my license,” Yukhei answers. Renjun turns to Johnny instead, but the taller shushes him before Renjun can even begin to whine some more.

  
“You are your own tour bus drivers. Deal with it. You’re lucky I’m even helping you haul your gear around.” Johnny hoists an amp out of the trunk of his own car.

  
“You say that as if you’re not obligated by family or whatever to look after at least one of us.” Donghyuck slides his arms through the straps on his guitar case, scuffing his shoe against the pavement.

  
“Only one of you. I’d trade the rest of you shits for Four Lokos and acid.” Johnny rolls his eyes, and they head inside.

  
The venue is already filling up when Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun, and Donghyuck prepare for the show. Jeno sets up his drum kit, Donghyuck greets the growing crowd with the first smile Mark’s seen from him.

  
“Good evening, distinguished guests or whatever,” he announces loudly, plucking at a few strings on his guitar. There’s a general answer of content from the crowd, and Donghyuck nods, adjusts his tuning pegs. Johnny carries out a microphone on a stand, setting it in front of Donghyuck and then shoving him on the shoulder before returning backstage. Donghyuck taps the mic to check if it’s on. When he’s sure it is, he leans in to announce, “Fuck you, Johnny.”

  
Johnny carries out more microphones for Jaemin, Renjun, and Jeno. He waves his middle finger in Donghyuck’s face before leaving this time.

  
Mark’s impressed. For starters, they’re not half bad; Jeno can, in fact, keep a beat. Donghyuck leads in vocals, it seems, and Mark can see why. Donghyuck’s voice is high, sweet, the steadiest of them all. Jaemin and Renjun’s voices are deeper, creating a harmony that’s warm, enjoyable to listen. Jeno doesn’t sing much–Mark thinks he’s probably focusing on not messing up.

  
“Aw, look at my little babies go,” Ten sits down beside Mark where he’s watching from backstage. “They don’t give themselves enough credit. A lot of depressed gay teens like them.”

  
“That’s what Jeno said.” Mark glances over at Ten, who grins. “He knows they have potential. But anyways. Did Johnny talk to you?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Did you call your parents?”

  
“Yes.” Mark feels that chilling guilt all over again, remembering his conversation with his mother. Ten places a hand on his shoulder.

  
“Good. Um, listen..I know right now it seems like most of us are complete assholes. Donghyuck’s been giving you hell, Johnny’s not the most...welcoming, either, and Jeno and Jaemin..I’m going off on a tangent. Anyways. Don’t take it to heart. We’ve still got each other’s backs, ‘n you’re with us now. You’ll find your place.” Ten hits Mark with that glittering smile, giving the younger a fond little shake before wandering away, calling Taeyong’s name.

  
Mark glances behind him and notices Johnny and Yukhei slipping into an empty room, closing the door behind them. He promptly turns back around and minds his business.

 

 

 

 

It’s late. Way later than Johnny would prefer to be awake. Yukhei’s nightmares have started again, however, and that’s not something Johnny can be mad about.

  
“What this time?” Johnny mumbles to Ten, leaning against the wall beside their hotel room door. On one of the two beds, Taeyong is lying close with Yukhei, the younger’s head on his chest. There’s tear tracks glittering on Yukhei’s cheeks, dark circles under his puffy eyes. Taeyong cards one hand gently through Yukhei’s hair, his other hand linked with the younger’s.

  
“Nightmares about something bad happening to you or me, now.” Ten rubs his eyes tiredly. “He needs to take his meds.”

  
“What do you want me to do? I’m not gonna force feed him his pills and traumatize him more.” Johnny pinches the bridge of his nose. Ten sighs, his impatience evident. Everyone’s running low on sleep, tempers worn thin.

  
“Well, I don’t know what we’re supposed to do!” Ten tries to keep his voice from rising too loudly, shoulders shaking slightly. He’s not really crying, not yet, but Johnny can see the tears close to spilling over, Ten’s cheeks and nose reddening the way they do when he cries.

  
“I’ll talk to him about taking them again after everyone’s rested. I can’t make him if he doesn’t want to, though,” Johnny sighs. Ten nods stiffly, looking down at the floor. Johnny reaches to take one of the younger’s hands, gently laces his fingers with Ten’s and kisses his knuckles.

  
“It’ll be okay,” murmurs Johnny, wrapping his other arm around Ten’s shoulders. The younger finally breaks down, muffles his crying into Johnny’s chest. Johnny holds Ten tightly, leans his cheek on top of the shorter’s head. They stay like that for what may only be a few minutes; it feels like an hour.

  
“Will you come to bed?” Yukhei’s voice is small, lilts sleepily. Johnny pulls back slightly from Ten, and Ten wipes his eyes, taking a deep breath before joining Taeyong and Yukhei on the bed. It hardly fits Taeyong and Yukhei themselves, but Ten is nestled comfortably behind the latter in a moment. There’s simply no way Johnny will fit as well, so he settles for kissing them all on the forehead, and waiting until the three are sleeping soundly to slip out for a cigarette.

 

Johnny isn’t alone. Sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette most definitely pilfered from Johnny himself, is Jaemin.

 

“Why are you awake?” Johnny stands beside Jaemin, who nearly jumps out of his skin.

  
“When the fuck did you get here?” Jaemin squints up at Johnny, who shrugs and lights his cigarette.

  
“What’s with the stealing my boges and being angsty, cousin? Donghyuck’s the one that does this normally.”

  
“I couldn’t sleep,” Jaemin mumbles, flicking ash off of his cigarette. Johnny shifts his weight to one leg, sighing out a cloud of smoke.

  
“Dude, I’m not even gonna pretend I know you like that just ‘cause we’re family or whatever but you’re completely bullshitting me right now.” Johnny sighs. “You can tell me what’s up. I probably can’t help, but bottling shit up is bad.”

  
“No.” Jaemin puffs on his cigarette. “I’ll be fine.”

  
“Okay, whatever.” Johnny rolls his eyes. “Go to sleep.”

  
“No. Also, why are you awake?”

  
“None of your business.” Johnny blows out some smoke, wheezes on a cough. Jaemin glances up at him. “You always cough like an old man.”

  
“Wanna take a wild fucking guess why?”

  
“Touché,” Jaemin looks back at the ground, “do you get homesick?”

  
“No.”

  
“Okay, well, those of us non-sociopaths do. And it feels shitty.” Jaemin flicks his cigarette butt away, crossing his arms tightly to stay warm. Johnny sits down on the curb beside Jaemin, finishing his own cigarette.

  
“I didn’t really have a home to get sick for. Your boy here aged out of the foster system. But, go on. I can’t help much, but I’ll listen.”

  
Jaemin turns to look at Johnny, eyes sad. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”

  
Johnny shrugs. “I’m not bitter or anything. You’re homesick?”

  
“I dunno. I miss my house. I wanna see my cat again. This is stupid.” Jaemin returns his gaze to his lap.

  
“It’s not,” Johnny reassures quietly. “Getting homesick is a normal thing. Taeyong misses Korea like crazy sometimes. It’s the good memories at home and shit, you know?”

  
Jaemin nods silently. Johnny puts one arm around the younger’s shoulders to pull him a little closer, because Jaemin is shivering, and Johnny knows he’s too stubborn to admit he’s cold.

  
“This is weird,” Jaemin mumbles, leaning against Johnny’s side all the same.

  
“Shut up, this is the closest you and I are ever getting to a moment.” Johnny stares up at the sky. He’s unsettled by the fact that he can’t see the stars, so Johnny settles on inspecting the hole in one of his shoes. He really needs new ones. Finally, he asks:

  
“Would you ever go back, though?”

  
Jaemin laughs through his nose. “Home? No. It’s not like I have folks that want me there. I just..miss it sometimes, I guess.”

  
“Right. You know who does want you here?”

  
“Jeno. Maybe. Only sixty percent of the time,” Jaemin answers dryly. Johnny rolls his eyes. “Christ, at least wait until you’re my age to be so fucking cynical. No. All of us. That’s who. Fuckhead.”

 

 

 

 

“You look like shit.”

  
Yukhei regards Donghyuck quietly, and finally, sipping his coffee, responds, “Your attitude’s shit. Cool.”

  
Renjun snorts apple juice out of his nose laughing, and Yukhei walks away. Donghyuck bites back his own smile.

  
“That’s not the answer I was expecting,” Donghyuck finally laughs, but he quickly falls quiet, eyes widening when he realizes that now, a pissed-off looking Johnny is approaching him and Renjun where they’re hanging out by the hotel’s breakfast bar. Renjun hastily does the same, smile melting from his face.

  
Johnny steps close enough that Donghyuck’s back hits the table behind him, and the younger gulps. Johnny takes a deep breath, and then fixes Donghyuck with his Just Because I Died Inside Long Ago Doesn’t Mean I Won’t Beat Your Ass Right Here And Now look. (Dubbed as such by Ten.)

  
“Donghyuck, I’m gonna need you to do me a favor and keep your fucking mouth shut. If you have any fucking smartass comments, ever, I just want you to take them, and just really sit and think on them for a second. And then, Donghyuck, shove them right up your fucking ass. No one wants to fucking hear it. Yukhei hardly fucking slept last night. I didn’t fucking sleep at all. I don’t need your bullshit, he definitely doesn’t need your bullshit. I’m literally clinging to my very last shred of fucking patience and sanity, so unless you want me to flip my fucking lid,” Johnny laughs a little, and Donghyuck pales, “shut the fuck up.”

  
When Donghyuck doesn’t say anything, Johnny slams his hand flat against the wall behind Donghyuck’s head, attracting the attention of a few other people nearby. Donghyuck jumps, spilling some coffee from his mug down his shirt.

  
“Are we clear?” Johnny asks. Donghyuck nods his head rapidly, so the elder walks away, already sticking a cigarette between his teeth as he approaches the exit.

  
“Is he always like that?” Mark walks over to get more coffee, raising an eyebrow at Donghyuck and Renjun.

  
“Get fucked,” spits Donghyuck, stomping away to go change his shirt. Renjun sighs.

  
“This’ll pass. Everyone gets tired of each other for a little while, you know?”

  
Mark sips his coffee, nodding slowly. “So he’s not always like that?”

  
“Johnny? Oh, no, he’s always kind of assholeish, but it’s because he’s probably the only one who really sees the bigger picture here and he knows it. Fucking Aquarius. He’s not always this high-strung, though. I think whatever’s happening with him and them–“ Renjun gestures vaguely towards where Yukhei, Taeyong, and Ten are sitting together. Ten is feeding both Yukhei and Taeyong pieces of his blueberry muffin that he’d hardly touched, all while absorbed in a book held in his other hand.

  
Renjun had paused to watch for a moment, and finally crinkles his nose. “God. Gross, they’re so gay. Anyways, I think it’s rocky right now. I know it may not seem like it, but Yukhei has really bad anxiety, and his parents Baker Acted him a few times. We haven’t really heard the whole story and no one wants to ask, but he’s got PTSD because of it, so it must have been bad.”

  
Mark peers down at the floor, scuffs his shoe against the carpet. “Oh. Damn.”

  
“Yeah. He can be..a lot to deal with sometimes. Not that it’s his fault at all, but you know.” Renjun shrugs his shoulders. Mark hums a little in response, nodding.

  
“Anyways. We’re doing another show soon and then maybe exploring the city for the day. We’ll hit the road again tomorrow morning,” Renjun smiles, wandering away in the direction Donghyuck had walked in.

 

 

 

 

“If you don’t stop injuring yourself from drumming too hard–“ Jaemin cuffs Jeno over the head, and the other squawks indignantly.

  
“I just broke two fingers! Give me a break!”

  
“This is the third time you’ve done this,” Renjun pinches the bridge of his nose. Jeno waves around a rude gesture with his good hand as Ten wraps medical tape around the two middle fingers of his opposite one.

  
“You’re literally unbelievable,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. Jeno mocks the other under his breath until Donghyuck attempts to strangle him.

  
“Everything good? No bones are sticking out of anywhere? Do we need to amputate?” Johnny lets himself into his hotel room where everyone’s gathered.

  
“This is my deathbed. Say your goodbyes,” Jeno answers.

  
“First of all, that’s my cheap hotel bed, so fuck your dying ass, get off of it. Second of all, bye.” Johnny takes the blue lollipop he’d been sucking on from his mouth, offers it to Yukhei, who happily accepts it.

  
“That’s gross,” Donghyuck gags. Johnny narrows his eyes. “I’ve had his dick in my mouth, I think we’re good to share food.”

  
Ten snickers quietly, and Donghyuck pretends to retch.

 

 

The city is bright, alive with midday bustle. Everyone wants to wander in all directions at once; Johnny’s currently holding Donghyuck by the collar, lecturing him on trying to sneak away and be angsty all by himself in a city he doesn’t know.

  
“That’s why fucking Google Maps exists, now can you let me go?” Donghyuck kicks Johnny in the shin, so in return, the elder shoves him into the building they’re all walking alongside. A few passerby stare in disbelief.

  
“If you get fucking kidnapped or some shit because you meet some sketchy people and we’re not there, that would be bad. For you. I wouldn’t miss you, but you wouldn’t enjoy being kidnapped. Make sense?” Johnny glares at Donghyuck, taking out his cigarettes and sticking one between his teeth. Rubbing his shoulder where he’d collided with brick, Donghyuck flips Johnny off.

  
“Maybe I want to get kidnapped so I don’t have to deal with you,” he shoots back.

  
“Be my guest, then. The only reason I have to tell you to stay is because they’re making me,” Johnny gestures towards Jaemin and Jeno, Renjun. Ten elbows the eldest, sighing.

  
“Why don’t you go back to the hotel with Yukhei? He’s not feeling this, and you need some sleep,” murmurs Ten in Johnny’s ear. “I can handle them. Go.”

  
Swearing under his breath, Johnny takes Yukhei’s hand. Together, they head back in the direction of the hotel.

  
“Is Johnny gonna get the stick out of his ass soon? I can deal with him at regular asshole level, but much more of this supreme assery and he’s fired.” Jeno throws an arm around Jaemin’s shoulders. Ten doesn’t bother looking behind him as he responds, “You can’t fire Johnny. He’d fire you back, and what are you gonna do, argue with your boyfriend’s sort-of guardian and also the only reasonable adult here?”

  
“Well, yes, I’d do exactly that. Why don’t you ever assume the title of reasonable adult? Johnny’s been missing the reasonable part for a while now. Even the adult part is questionable.” Jeno rolls his eyes. Stopping at a crosswalk, Ten squeezes Taeyong’s hand a little tighter.

  
“I make sure your trashy band doesn’t crumble to pieces, Johnny does the adult shit. We’ve been over this,” Ten answers. “Where do you assholes wanna go for lunch?”

  
“Can we go chill in a park or something gay like that?” Renjun chimes.

  
“Let me feed the hungry ones first. It’ll take, like, two seconds.” Ten starts over the crosswalk. There’s still cars coming, one of which honks, but Ten just raises his middle finger and keeps walking. “We’re getting, like, McDonalds or something. Fuck you guys.”

 

 

Mark offers Renjun some of his fries as they take a seat beneath a tree. Jeno and Jaemin lounge out in the open sun, sharing their McNuggets and occasionally shoving one another over.

  
“I’m good.” Renjun waves Mark’s outstretched fries away, crossing his legs. From his other side, Donghyuck eyes Renjun calculatingly for a moment before resuming his writing, chewing on the straw of his Coke.

  
“How did you guys become a band?” Mark asks, hugging his knees to his chest. Renjun smiles a little, like it’s a funny story, and takes a deep breath.

  
“Well, Jeno and I went to school together. In like, sophomore year, Jaemin was the one who put up flyers around town asking for a drummer and bassist for his and Donghyuck’s lame band–“ Renjun’s interrupted by Donghyuck hitting him on the shoulder, and he just grins, carrying on, “and like, Jeno and I didn’t know shit about music or instruments, but we showed up anyways. Donghyuck wanted to kick us out for wasting his time but Jaemin thought Jeno was hot so he made Hyuck let us stay.

  
“Jeno more or less learned to play on his own, I’m still kinda shitty on bass but we manage. We started off just playing in Hyuck’s garage, and then doing really tiny shows in our town. Johnny turned up pretty early, actually. He’d gotten back into contact with actual family after being in foster homes all the time, but unfortunately it was just Jaemin and his folks. Not a very exciting bunch. However, Jaemin was trying like mad to leave, so we decided to tour and Johnny and his gays came with to make sure we don’t die.” Renjun stops, catches his breath. Mark is still registering how quickly Renjun ejected that whole dialogue.

  
“We’ve had arguably more near-death experiences with Johnny than without,” Donghyuck mumbles. Renjun shoves him. “Anyways. We got on the road, and we started this unofficial tour a couple months ago. With stops at home along the way because Donghyuck gets homesick like a little bitch baby.”

  
“Fuck off,” Donghyuck laughs out, shutting his notebook and looking over to where Ten and Taeyong are seated yards away, feeding each other french fries and conversing happily. “God. They’re so gay.”

  
“What’s the story there?” Mark asks, a little quieter, his eyes on Ten and Taeyong as well. Donghyuck twirls his pen in his fingers, chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully. He looks at Renjun expectantly, waiting on the other to explain to Mark.

  
“Oh, I don’t know. All four of them won’t really tell the whole story, just that they met and all ended up together, so it’s probably sketch somehow.” Renjun shakes his head. “We do know that Taeyong’s here ‘cause his parents disowned him for being gay, which is pretty shit, but Ten and Yukhei and Johnny all literally live up his ass now and dote on him all the time, so I think it’s safe to say he’s in the healing process.”

  
There’s something about the way Renjun says it that makes Mark look over at him, attention caught. The other has a distant look in his eyes, lower lip caught between his teeth not unlike Donghyuck. However, as quickly as the wistful expression had veiled Renjun’s young face, he smiles again.

  
“How about you, though? You ask an awful lot of questions but we still don’t know much about you. So spill.” Renjun leans his back against the tree’s trunk, raising an eyebrow at Mark.

  
“I have nothing to hide, you just didn’t ask,” mumbles Mark. “Whatever. I’m remarkably unremarkable anyways, what do you wanna know?”

  
“I believe that. What did you do before now, though? Like, sports? Anything?”

  
Mark laughs aloud. “I managed to break my wrist during the table tennis unit in Phys Ed. Sports aren’t my thing. I’m not really good at anything in particular, but I like to paint or whatever.”

  
“Table tennis is a sport?” Donghyuck asks incredulously. Mark shrugs and sips his drink.

  
“I guess, I dunno.”

  
“You’re a painter?” Renjun pries further. “Any good?”

  
“Nah,” Mark shrugs. “I’m pretty average, honestly. But it’s fun, so I’ll keep doing it.”

  
Renjun grins. “That’s the spirit. Some people,” he cuts his eyes towards Donghyuck accusingly, “won’t accept mediocrity at its finest.”

  
“You forgetting your chords for an entire song is not mediocrity. It’s just sucking at your only job.” Donghyuck nibbles the end of his pen thoughtfully, scuffing the heel of one shoe into the grass.

  
“Semantics. Are they searching for you yet?” Renjun scrutinizes, raising an eyebrow at Mark. He shrugs, “I dunno, maybe. I called my mom when we were at the rest stop yesterday to tell her I was okay, so hopefully they’ll just leave it. Not like they can offer any money or nothin’ to whoever would return me.”

  
“That’s depressing,” Renjun deadpans. Mark shrugs his shoulders once more.

 

 

 

 

Johnny is still passed out when they return. Ten enters their hotel room, followed by Taeyong, to find Yukhei wrapped in Johnny’s arms, cheek leaned on the elder’s shoulder as he scrolls through Twitter. Upon noticing Ten and Taeyong, he puts a finger to his lips. Taeyong walks over to kiss Yukhei, leans past the youngest to press a kiss to Johnny’s cheek as well. Johnny tightens his arm around Yukhei’s middle, sighing in his sleep.

  
Taeyong grins, unbelievably fond, and falls onto the other bed beside Ten. Ten brushes Taeyong’s hair out of his face, cradles the elder’s jaw to pull him in for a kiss.

  
“Are you guys okay?” Taeyong asks. It’s such an odd question to ask now, and Ten pulls back to look at Taeyong with a raised eyebrow.

  
“Of course we’re okay.”

  
“No, I mean–“ Taeyong huffs, and Ten interlaces their fingers as he waits on the other to grasp onto what he’s trying to put into the words that still feel foreign in his mouth.

  
“I mean,” Taeyong starts again, shifting a little so he’s pressed to Ten’s side. He rests his chin on the younger’s chest, staring into Ten’s eyes. “You and Johnny care for yourselves more. You need to,” he corrects, brow furrowing for just a moment.

  
“We do care for ourselves,” murmurs Ten, though that’s a lie and he knows it. All he’s eaten today was some of Taeyong’s fries earlier, and he’s fallen asleep in his contacts two consecutive nights now. It’s pretty plain to see that Johnny’s getting worn out, temper shorter every day. The expression Taeyong wears tells Ten he isn’t buying it.

  
“Have no color in your face,” Taeyong replies almost as if he’s speaking more to himself, pinching one of Ten’s cheeks. “We will be okay when you..”

  
Taeyong trails off, chewing on his lower lip. His nose scrunches a little the way it does when he’s trying to remember a word, and Ten grazes his fingertips up one of Taeyong’s arms gently, watching the elder’s face fondly.

  
“When you need a pause, even just for short times.” Taeyong leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of Ten’s mouth. “You and Johnny need relaxing.”

  
“We do,” Ten agrees, finally. “But it’s our job to care for you guys. We gotta care too much. It’s what we do.”

  
Shaking his head, Taeyong leans in for another kiss. This time, Ten curls his fingers into Taeyong’s hair so he can keep kissing him.

 

 

 

 

“Let’s hit the road, gang.” Johnny remarks in his White Dad voice, lit cigarette bobbing in his mouth. Jeno spits out his coffee, nearly dropping the cymbals he’s loading into the trunk of the bus.

  
“God. Never refer to us as ‘gang’ ever again.” Donghyuck scoffs, leaning against the bus. “Anyways, rock-paper-scissors for who has to drive? Mark, you can drive, right?”

  
“I don’t mind driving,” answers Mark, patting his pockets for his wallet. He’s almost sure his license is in there. Donghyuck’s default expression of annoyed boredom turns into surprise for just a moment.

  
“Oh. Okay. Uh,” Donghyuck looks at Mark for a little longer, and then just turns, climbing into the bus. Meanwhile, Johnny and Ten are bickering about who has to drive as well, considering Yukhei is gay and Taeyong doesn’t have a license either.

  
“You drive, I can’t take anymore of you being DJ,” Ten insists. Johnny flicks his hair out of his eyes. “You’re telling me you don’t fucks with Mom Jeans?”

  
“No. I love you, but I hate your pretentious hipster music with a passion. Johnny, I am begging–“ Ten wrings his hands together, and then unclasps them in favor of hanging off of Johnny’s shoulder, groaning loudly and obnoxiously.

  
“Jesus fucking–“ Johnny pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I’ll drive. You’re fucking filling my tank.”

  
“Do I look like I’m made of money?” Ten scoffs, and Johnny whirls around, having started towards his car.

  
“Do I? I’m sorry I don’t have a trust fund that I can tap into, Ten, and there’s eleven fucking dollars to my name right now.” Johnny expels with frustration, running one hand through his hair and biting at his thumbnail. Mark’s caught off guard; Johnny’s attitude isn’t anything new, but it had seemed that at least Ten, Taeyong, and Lucas were exempted from getting the brunt of it.

  
Ten’s face is devoid of any discernible upset. In silence, Ten watches Johnny pace for a few seconds before stopping in front of him once more. Johnny runs his hands over his face, meeting the shorter’s eyes.

  
“Stop fucking looking at me like that,” snaps Johnny, rubbing his temples. “I have a fucking headache. I’m tired. You’re asking me to fucking drive for six hours.”

  
“If it’s that big of a fucking deal I’ll just drive, then,” Ten finally spits out, holding his hand out. Johnny drops his keys into Ten’s palm.

  
“Sleep while we’re on the road if you’re so tired. Will that fix your fucking attitude?Because everyone’s getting tired of your shit.” Ten folds his arms. Anger–genuine, fierce, blazing anger–flashes across Johnny’s face.

  
“Would you all like to look after your fucking selves then?” Johnny’s voice rises to a shout, and by the time he reopens his mouth to continue, he’s screaming. “I bust my fucking ass for you all without even a fucking thank you! I’m the grown one here because the rest of you never want to take some responsibility for anything that’s fucking important! I’m not a fucking parent, okay?”

  
Donghyuck pokes his head out of the bus, eyes wide. As for everyone else, their stunned expressions match the shock sending Mark’s stomach into knots.

  
Ten’s chin trembles like he’s biting his tongue, and he closes his fist around Johnny’s car keys slowly. Johnny’s chest heaves, and he runs both hands through his hair, turning away from Ten to go back to pacing.

  
“Are you done? Or is there more? By all means, continue your tantrum.” Ten folds his arms. Johnny strides up to the shorter so quickly and with such a thunderous expression that Ten takes a few steps backwards, eyes widening.

  
“Give me my keys back.” Johnny orders quietly, calmly. He holds his hand out. “I don’t have to keep doing this shit.”

  
“You’re not planning to leave–“ Ten starts to laugh, a defense mechanism, but he flinches when Johnny comes even closer, looming over Ten. Jeno jumps up from where he’d been sitting on the back fender of the bus, approaching to step in between Johnny and Ten.

  
“Guys, stop,” Jeno says loudly. Johnny holds his hands up, backing up a few feet. “Fine. Fine. You’re right. I’m going to cool off. Fucking hell.”

  
Grabbing his cigarettes and lighter, Johnny stalks away, out of the lot, out of sight. Jeno looks at Ten, opens his mouth to maybe ask if Ten’s okay, maybe to apologize, but Ten shakes his head.

  
“That’s been a long time coming. I knew he wasn’t fucking telling me the truth when he said everything was fine. I just let him keep bottling it up until...well, you saw.”

  
“That’s not your fault. If he didn’t want to do all that shit, he could’ve said so.” Jeno frowns.

  
“He was saying so, you assholes,” Jaemin speaks up, “Maybe not outright, but when he was always complaining about being exhausted and broke and unhappy, did you ever stop to think he might not want to do this anymore?”

  
It’s quiet. Peering around, Jaemin continues, “The only reason Johnny even came along with us in the first place was because of me. He didn’t have to take on all this shit that you guys expect of him.”

  
“Yeah? Well, forgive me for not being very sympathetic when he screamed in my face about it.” Ten rolls his eyes.

  
“When’s the last time you even asked how he was doing before this happened?” Jaemin raises an eyebrow. Again, silence. Taeyong and Yukhei, who had watched the whole scene unfold from where they leaned against the opposite side of Johnny’s car, share similarly nervous expressions.

  
“Thought so.” Jaemin nods when Ten doesn’t answer, red coloring the tips of his ears. Jaemin starts in the direction Johnny walked in. “I’m gonna go find him. You guys both need to apologize to each other.”

  
“The fuck am I apologizing for?” Ten’s voice cracks.

  
“I don’t know. Treating his emotions like they shouldn’t be there? He’s human, Ten, and he’s not always going to be so far up your ass. Swallow your pride already,” Jaemin tells the elder before jogging after Johnny.

 

 

 

 

“Stop walking so fast! My legs are too short!”

  
“I’m not in the fucking mood.” Johnny answers without turning around, blowing out smoke. Jaemin finally catches up with the taller, walking briskly to keep up with Johnny’s long strides.

  
“Hey, fucking listen. I’m on your side,” Jaemin insists, and Johnny stiffens, coming to a stop in the center of the sidewalk. Pulling Jaemin aside, leaning against a building, Johnny crosses his arms.

  
“Fine. What?”

  
“Why didn’t you ever tell anyone any of this stuff?” Jaemin asks. It’s not accusatory, simply a question that hangs in the air between them for some time. Eventually, Johnny decides to answer.

  
“I don’t know. I guess I thought I was just being selfish. This is what you guys want, and I want it for you all too. It’s what makes you happy, so I thought I could just deal with it.”

  
“Your happiness is important too, though.”

  
“It comes second. Honestly, that’s a lie. It’s below Ten and Taeyong and Yukhei and you and all your annoying band members and even now that fucking runaway. You guys are my priority, because you’re the only family I have, but I can’t keep this up much longer. I-I’m not equipped for this. It’s draining. I’m tired. I’m always tired.” Johnny peers down at his feet. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  
“You can quit,” Jaemin suggests gently. “This isn’t your job.”

  
“It’s my obligation,” Johnny responds sharply. “Do you really think I’d leave you behind? Fucking hell, kid, I know I’m a dick but I fucking care about you guys. Way too much to just let you fend for yourselves, are you kidding?”

  
“Your health is more important,” insists Jaemin, clenching his fists at his sides. “Besides, we aren’t– actually, we are pretty helpless. Even so, we can manage.”

  
“No.”

  
“Okay, fine. But you need to talk to Ten. Taeyong and Yukhei too. About accepting more responsibility. Tell Yukhei’s gay ass to get his fucking license already.”

 

 

 

 

The worsened blue circles under Johnny’s eyes, the expression he wears that immediately clues Ten in to the fact that he’s trying not to cry in front of everyone, reflects how Ten feels. Leaning against the hood of Johnny’s car, Ten folds his arms and watches silently as Johnny slowly approaches, Jaemin beside him.

  
“Beat it,” Johnny grumbles, and Jaemin silently climbs into the bus. Johnny waits on the others to do the same, waits until it’s just him and Ten, Taeyong and Yukhei.

  
Ten doesn’t speak. Johnny approaches, and Ten allows him to, until the elder is close enough to lean down, rest his head on Ten’s shoulder. Inhaling slowly, letting it out in a deep sigh, Johnny tucks his face into Ten’s neck and allows the younger to takes his hands.

  
“I’m sorry.” Johnny finally speaks, voice quiet. There’s a quality of vulnerability to it that Ten hasn’t heard before. “Pretty bullshit of a thing to say, but I am sorry. For blowing up on you over stuff I could’ve just told you. And yelling at you . And getting in your face like that–I’m so sorry, Ten, fuck. I’d take it all back if I could. The last thing I want is to scare you.”

  
“I’m not scared of you,” Ten interjects quietly, stubbornly. “And you’re right. Sorry is bullshit, but I owe you one too. I should’ve noticed you weren’t..I should’ve noticed you weren’t able to handle it all, and I should’ve done more to help.”

  
Johnny lifts his head to look at Ten. His eyes are threatening to overflow with tears, lip caught between his lower teeth.

  
“Why aren’t you mad? Why aren’t you yelling at me right now?” Johnny laughs dryly, tears spilling finally. “I was going to leave.”

  
“But you didn’t.” Ten reaches up, gently brushes the tears from Johnny’s cheeks with his thumbs. “Besides. I was mad. I’ll get over it. What’s the point of staying upset when you’re back? Apologizing? When you had a reason to be upset?”

  
“I shouldn’t–“

  
Ten leans up, kissing Johnny on the mouth to quiet him. “Shut up,” he murmurs, “you can’t change it now, but you’re forgiven, okay?”

  
Finally, Johnny nods, pulling back to look at Ten. “I love you so much, you know that, right?”

  
“I love you too,” Ten whispers, turning to wave Yukhei and Taeyong over. Johnny embraces them both in turn, pressing apologetic kisses all over their faces.

  
“I love you guys too. I’m sorry for making an ass of myself. Really,” Johnny apologizes, peering sincerely into Taeyong’s eyes, then Yukhei’s. Yukhei leans his head on Johnny’s shoulder, mumbling, “I hate when you yell. I love you too though.”

  
“I’m glad you came back.” Taeyong stands on his tiptoes to kiss Johnny.

 

 

 

 

The drive to their next venue, thankfully, passes fairly quickly. Jeno offers to drive instead, so Mark naps through the ride, drifting in and out of that not-quite kind of sleep you get when you’re in a car. He hears snippets of conversation, but it blurs into hazy dreams involving Donghyuck’s sharp, mysterious eyes staring him down.

  
“–well, this isn’t how you get him to like you–“

  
“I don’t want him to like me!”

  
“Oh, that’s funny–“

  
Mark jolts awake when Renjun shakes his shoulder, smiling. “We’re here. Ten’s getting pizzas delivered to the hotel rooms so we can pig out and sleep for a bit, show’s not ‘till later.”

  
Mark wonders what the weird pang in his stomach is when he locks eyes with Donghyuck. It’s only for a moment, so brief that Mark may have even imagined it, but it leaves him kind of nauseous in a way that’s not entirely unpleasant all the same.

  
Renjun gingerly picks the pepperoni slices off of his pizza. Jeno eats two slices at once.

  
“Seriously no one is coming to find you?” Jaemin interrogates Mark, frowning. Mark shakes his head.

  
“Not that I know of. Probably because I’ll be eighteen soon anyways. I’m glad, honestly.” Mark shrugs, watches Renjun discreetly dispose of his hardly-touched slice on Jeno’s plate. The silver-haired boy doesn’t even notice, busy frowning at Donghyuck; it’s as if they’re carrying on their whole own conversation with their eyes alone.

  
“That’s, like, really sad though.” Jaemin takes another bite of his pizza. Mark gives a second shrug, leaves it at that.

  
“Mark–“ Jeno starts loudly, but Donghyuck shoves him hard enough that Jeno topples off of the hotel bed they were sitting on. Mark blinks questioningly at Donghyuck, who just glares in return.

  
“Mark, Donghyuck–!” Jeno tries again, but Donghyuck steps on his back, knocking the other down a second time. Renjun and Jaemin both cackle quietly, not an ounce of help to Mark despite the confused look he gives them.

  
“Jeno, shut up,” Donghyuck growls, teeth clenched. Jeno snickers, eyes going from Donghyuck to Mark calculatingly.

  
“Mark, Donghyuck likes you!” Jeno scrambles to his feet, sprinting towards the door. Donghyuck chases after him, yelling, “I’m gonna kill you!”

  
Jeno and Donghyuck go racing out of the hotel room, the latter chasing Jeno down the hall. Mark’s jaw has dropped, pizza paused halfway to his mouth.

  
“Well, cat’s out of the bag now. Yeah, Donghyuck has like, a gross crush on you. That’s why he’s always so mean. He doesn’t want you liking him back for some reason.” Jaemin picks another slice of pizza out of the box, putting it on Renjun’s plate. “I don’t know how slick you think you are, but you have to eat.”

  
Renjun shakes his head stubbornly. “I had a big breakfast.”

  
“That was six hours ago, eat,” Jaemin insists sternly. Glaring vindictively at Jaemin, Renjun begins to nibble at the pizza crust.

  
“Anyways, yeah. Donghyuck is like..really into you, actually. He’s just bad at saying that stuff. Obviously.” Jaemin scoffs.

 

 

“Why can’t you ever just stay out of shit?” Donghyuck shoves Jeno against the wall, angry tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. “Do you have any idea what he’s gonna think of me now?”

  
“I saw him ogling you on the fuckin’ bus, I provably just did you a favor, Hyuck! God knows you can’t fuckin’ tell him yourself!”

  
“I don’t need him knowing! All he’s gonna do is fuckin’ leave, Jeno! Why waste your time?”

  
By now, Johnny’s poking his head out of the other hotel room, eyebrows raised. Taeyong steps past him into the hall, wrapping a nurturing arm around Donghyuck’s shoulders and beginning to lead him back to their hotel room.

  
“What’s wrong?” Taeyong asks quietly. When Donghyuck answers, his voice is shaking with the threat of tears once more.

  
“Jeno can’t ever just mind his business! He told Mark–“ Donghyuck cuts himself off, chest heaving. Johnny catches Mark’s name, locks eyes with Taeyong. They share a knowing look, and Taeyong gently wipes away the tear tracks glittering on Donghyuck’s cheeks. 

“Uh, is it a bad time?” Mark peeks out of the other hotel room. Donghyuck widens his eyes, stuttering slightly.

  
“Wanna like, go on a walk? Maybe talk about some stuff?” Mark offers Donghyuck a small smile, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket.

  
“Go, I have to talk to Jeno about minding his business anyways.” Johnny nudges Donghyuck. That’s all it takes for the latter to give Taeyong a one-armed hug and slowly walk down the hall to the elevator with Mark.

  
It’s quiet. Mark chews on his lower lip, tries to figure out what exactly to say first.

  
“I’m sorry for being so mean to you. In general, honestly,” Donghyuck blurts out. Mark glances over at him, eyes wide and innocent, puppylike.

  
“Oh, it’s fine. It really didn’t hurt my feelings,” Mark smiles weakly, “I just kinda thought that was how you are.”

  
“It kinda is, but I was extra assholeish to you because I’m emotionally constipated or whatever.” Donghyuck picks at his cuticles. He avoids Mark’s gaze.

  
“So..you like me?” Donghyuck doesn’t have to look at Mark to know he’s smiling, and he gently shoves the taller.

  
“Shut up.”

  
The elevator doors open, and Mark and Donghyuck walk out, continuing through the hotel lobby and out the front doors.

  
“You do? Or no?” Mark leans over to peer into Donghyuck’s eyes, smile even wider than before.

  
“I’ve wondered what kissing you feels like since, like..whatever, shut up. I don’t like you.” Donghyuck crosses his arms, looking away. Mark giggles, and Donghyuck feels the other’s hands on his hips. Donghyuck faces Mark once more, and the latter is much closer than he’d been a minute before.

  
“Can I kiss you?” Mark asks softly, and Donghyuck uncrosses his arms in favor of loosely wrapping them around Mark’s neck.

  
“Yeah, sure. I guess. Whatever–“ Donghyuck’s cut short, his delighted giggle muffled by Mark’s lips against his.

 

 

 

 

Hearing everything as if he’s in an empty arena, ears ringing, Renjun fumbles over a chord–the sixth time he’s done it during their show. He can feel Donghyuck and Jaemin looking at him, but there are black and red spots dancing in Renjun’s vision. Renjun’s head spins, knees buckling, and the last thing he sees is Donghyuck running to catch him before he falls.

  
“I told you he wasn’t eating!” Jaemin’s voice, frustrated and tearful, rises out of the foggy unconscious Renjun’s been stuck in. A cool hand grips his wrist, feels his pulse. Renjun tries to sit up, but he feels dizzy all over again and lies back down.

  
“You awake?” Mark’s quiet voice asks in Renjun’s ear. Renjun nods, slowly opens his eyes. One by one, the boys come into focus, gathered around the worn, cracked leather couch that Renjun’s come to rest on backstage.

  
Mark holds out a hand to Renjun, helps the other boy sit up slowly. Renjun feels a piercing throb over his right eye, and he winces.

  
“Here,” Jeno passes Renjun a water bottle, already opened. Renjun takes a long sip, but the cold water hitting his empty stomach only makes Renjun grimace even more. It helps clear his head all the same, however, and for that he’s grateful.

  
Johnny’s nose and eyes are red, like he’s been crying. He sits beside Renjun, tossing his phone from hand to hand. “Um, listen. I have the number to this inpatient place. I can’t make you go, I’m not your guardian or whatever, but I know you know what it’s like there. Do you want to be fed through a tube? And be on an IV drip all the time?”

  
Renjun flinches at the thought, stares down at his hands. Johnny reaches over, gently wraps his hand around Renjun’s forearm. The younger’s thin wrist disappears as Johnny’s fingers easily overlap each other.

  
“I know it’s hard. But you have to eat, okay? Please.” Johnny lets go of Renjun’s wrist. Renjun stares down at his lap, lower lip quivering. He thinks about the old hospital bracelet from his first inpatient stay, four years ago, packed away in the bottom of his bag.

  
“Renjun, you can’t scare us like that. We need you around.” Jaemin kneels down so he can look the other in the eye, tears glittering at the corners of his eyes.

  
“We like, love you a lot,” Jeno adds. Jaemin glances up at the other, some silent agreement passing between them, one that sends Renjun’s heart into his throat. Johnny senses it too, the way the atmosphere has changed, and he stands slowly.

  
“We’ll leave you guys alone.” Johnny nudges Mark. Renjun notices that Donghyuck grabs Mark’s hand as they disperse, leaving him with Jaemin and Jeno.

  
“I love you guys too..” Renjun peers back and forth between Jaemin and Jeno. The latter finally speaks, staring down at his hands.

  
“Renjun, we like..Jaemin ‘n I have talked about this a lot, and we want you..you know, with us.” Jeno’s voice trembles, and Jaemin reaches up to take one of his hands, squeezes it gently. Jeno takes a deep breath, then speaks again, “Saying this stuff is so much scarier than it seemed in my head. We just care a lot about you and shit.”

  
Renjun bites his lower lip in an attempt to keep his growing smile at bay. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?” he teases, tilting his head to the side.

  
“No. Never. Bye.” Jeno begins to turn away, but Jaemin jumps to his feet and pulls him back. “Yes, that’s what we’re asking.”

  
Jeno’s blushing, messing with the horseshoe ring pierced through his septum–a nervous habit, one Jeno has had ever since he made Johnny do the piercing with a questionably-sanitized quilting needle. Renjun sees Jeno, his hand linked with Jaemin’s. He sees Jaemin, peering from Renjun to Jeno, the nerves evident on his face. Renjun tries to envision himself somewhere in there; it’s surprisingly easy, and it feels like a punch in the gut, how quickly Renjun can see his hand in Jeno’s instead, his lips fitting against Jaemin’s for soft, affectionate kisses.

  
“Yes?” It comes out far softer than Renjun intended, but they hear him all the same, and Jeno sweeps him up in a hug, lifting Renjun right off his feet.

  
“You’re so small,” Jeno whispers. “You have to eat, okay? Please?”

  
Renjun’s toes touch the floor again. Jeno’s arms loosen around his waist, but just as quickly, Jaemin’s embracing Renjun as well, peppering his face in kisses.

 

 

 

 

They choose to eat dinner in a small restaurant just around the corner. It advertises authentic Chinese food, something Yukhei and Renjun alike had been skeptical of. However, when they step inside, it smells exactly how Renjun’s kitchen used to when his parents cooked dinner.

  
There’s only two other customers in the cramped place, seated at the counter. The boy standing behind the counter waves at Ten in greeting, flashing a bright grin.

  
“Hey, you can sit wherever. I’ll be with you in a minute. Jungwoo, will you give them menus?” He asks one of the boys sitting at the counter.

  
“I don’t even work here. Yes.” Jungwoo picks up a small stack of laminated menus, hops down from his stool to pass them out to the boys. Jungwoo’s features are soft, delicate, cheekbones high and nose gently sloping downward to full pink lips.

  
“Evening,” he greets softly, showing bunny teeth in a shy smile as he hands a menu to each boy. It takes Ten one glance at the next booth over to see that Yukhei is already taken with Jungwoo, his eyes wide and shining as he stares at Jungwoo, starstruck. Ten nudges Johnny, nods towards Yukhei with a grin. “Look.”

  
Johnny glances over subtly, a smile curling his lips upward. “Kid’s cute.”

  
“The baby’s in love,” whispers Ten. Johnny laughs under his breath, but Ten’s onto something; Yukhei’s cheeks are pink, eyes following Jungwoo when the other boy returns to his seat at the counter.

  
“My name is Chenle, I-“ the boy behind the counter stops short, noticing for the first time Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck. His mouth falls open into a small ‘O’.

  
“You guys..I missed your show, ‘cause I had to work. Here.” Chenle drops the rag he’d been wiping the counter with. “But you guys...came. Here. To eat.”

  
“We’re gonna busk around the city for a while tomorrow, you should tag along if you want. Sorry you missed the show,” Jeno responds cheerfully, putting one arm around Renjun’s shoulders. Jungwoo waves one hand in front of Chenle’s dazed face, giggling.

  
“Earth to Chenle,” he sing-songs. The other boy at the counter turns around in his seat to scan the group, surprise clear on his young face.

  
“I’ll have to convince my parents to let me go, but yeah, sure,” Chenle answers slowly. “Can Jisung come?”

  
“That’s me.” The other boy raises one hand, waves at Jeno. Jeno shrugs one shoulder.

  
“Sure, whatever. It’s a fuckin’ party.”

 

 

Chenle cooks with impressive speed and experience for someone so young–he and Jisung are both sixteen, they’d learned–and when he brings the food out to everyone, it smells delicious and tastes even better.

  
“I’m not usually working here alone,” Chenle informs them, walking over to the front door to flip the ‘OPEN’ sign around so the ‘CLOSED’ side faces outward instead. “My folks just asked me to close tonight.”

  
“Oof. Big chode,” Johnny deadpans around a mouthful of pork bun. Chenle blinks at him, and Ten shoots the kid a smile. “He means it sucks. Don’t mind him, carry on.”

  
“Right. I was bummed, ‘cause we were supposed to go to the square and see you guys play, but this is definitely cool too.” Chenle sits down at the counter beside Jisung, who plays with his fingers as if he wants to hold Chenle’s hand but is too shy.

  
“Someone told me the show was dick anyways,” Jisung remarks bluntly, “and that your bassist ate shit.”

  
Renjun’s cheeks heat up, and Chenle elbows Jisung, who snorts quietly. “I wanted to know if it was true or not!”

  
“No, yeah, I did,” Renjun mumbles, picking at the food on his plate, still hardly touched. Renjun feels Johnny’s eyes on him, and recalls the hospital bracelet buried in his bag. Renjun gingerly lifts a dumpling with his chopsticks and takes a minuscule bite.

  
“I’m fine, though,” he reassures, glancing up to shoot Chenle and Jisung a smile. Jeno’s arm tightens around Renjun’s shoulders, and Jaemin’s fingers gently interlace with his under the table.

 

 

 

 

“Did you take your meds?” Johnny presses a sleepy kiss to Yukhei’s cheek.

  
“I don’t like how they make me feel,” mumbles the younger, “but yeah. Whatever. I’m taking the smaller dose now.”

  
“I’m just glad you’re taking them again, okay? We can talk to the doctor about trying different ones, or–“

  
“I didn’t have nightmares last night.”

  
Johnny pauses, peering into Yukhei’s round, sweet brown eyes. Biting his lower lip, Yukhei continues, “For the first night in ages, I didn’t have nightmares. I had a dream, about..about him. Jungwoo.”

  
Johnny had known it was coming, really, but it still feels as if his heart has dropped to the pit of his stomach. It makes sense; Yukhei had been smitten with Jungwoo right away, and they’d talked all through dinner. Johnny had sworn Jungwoo was even going to take Yukhei’s hand at one point, only for the kid to mess with his silverware instead.

  
“I’m so glad to hear that, babe,” Johnny smiles. Maybe his grin is just a little too wobbly, because Yukhei gently cups the elder’s face in one large hand, pulling Johnny in for a tender kiss.

  
“I love you guys,” Yukhei murmurs, “I just..think it’s him, y’know?”

  
Johnny nods his head. He does know that way someone can have your heart right away and forever; from the day he’d met Ten, Johnny had just known everything would be okay.

  
“I don’t think he’s gonna–I don’t expect him to fix everything fucked up with me or anything. But..you know.” Yukhei glances past Johnny, who peers over his shoulder to see what the younger’s looking at.

  
Ten and Taeyong, on the other bed, still fast asleep. They’re facing each other, Taeyong’s arms wound around Ten’s narrow waist. Ten’s face is tucked into Taeyong’s chest, one of his hands still resting in Taeyong’s hair as if he’d fallen asleep carding his fingers through it. Johnny feels warm all over, and he sighs softly.

  
“Yeah. I know. Do what’s best for you.” Johnny faces Yukhei once more, pressing one more sweet kiss to his full lips.

 

 

 

 

“Chenle told us to come back in the morning if we were up for breakfast. You want to go?” Jaemin gently drums his fingers on Renjun’s sternum over the smaller boy’s old sweater, sits up on his elbow to smile sleepily at Renjun.

  
“Maybe. I’m not hungry,” murmurs Renjun, flushing under Jaemin’s sweet gaze. Jaemin leans down to kiss Renjun on the cheek.

  
“You don’t have to eat a lot. Just something small for breakfast, okay?” Jaemin pleads gently. “I’m scared for you, I just want you to be healthy.”

  
“I-“ Renjun has to look away, because the sincerity in Jaemin’s deep brown eyes is raw, simmers for miles below the surface.

  
“I’m gonna go shower. And we can go to breakfast.” Renjun kisses the end of Jaemin’s nose to avoid the conversation going any further than that, rolling out of bed. As he shuffles towards the bathroom, Jeno comes walking out, bumping right into Renjun.

  
“Morning,” Jeno yawns, leaning in to kiss Renjun’s temple with a smile. Renjun returns the smile, and Jeno allows him to continue on to the bathroom. Renjun locks the door behind himself, sheds his shirt.

  
Renjun winces a little as he scans his body in the mirror. His collarbones stick out more than ever, and counting his ribs is an easy feat. Renjun turns away from the mirror before the lump in his throat grows any bigger, turns on the shower. He lets the water run cold and stands beneath the freezing spray as long as he can bear.

 

 

Yukhei goes with them to the restaurant. He says that Johnny, Ten, and Taeyong are still sleeping, but Mark suspects it’s something to do with that Jungwoo kid he’d been making googly eyes at during dinner the night before.

  
“Jisung–Jisung, stop eating all the rice,” Chenle complains, shoving the taller boy away from the stove he’s currently cooking at. “You’re not even supposed to be back here, you’re not an employee.”

  
“Eat my ass,” Jisung responds around a mouthful of egg-fried rice, waving at the group as they come in one by one.

  
“Fuck. He has a point.” Chenle spoons helpings of the rice into bowls, sighing. Jisung’s face scrunches up in a smile and he kisses Chenle’s cheek, earning a surprised yelp from the other.

  
“Hey,” Jungwoo greets Yukhei shyly, hopping down from his stool at the counter to face the taller. Their fingers brush tentatively, and Yukhei’s cheeks redden.

  
“Morning,” responds Yukhei softly, lowering his eyes to his shoes. Jungwoo’s fingers interlace loosely with his, and the elder tilts his head so he can get a better look at Yukhei’s face. “You’re cute,” Jungwoo smiles, round cheeks bunching up sweetly.

  
“Gay,” Jeno coughs, one arm around each of his own boyfriends’ necks. Yukhei squints at Jeno, and then squeezes Jungwoo’s hand gently.

  
“We’re all gay here.” Jaemin shoves Jeno gently. Mark clears his throat, “Bi erasure.”

  
“Okay, we’re all gay here and then there’s Mark,” Jaemin rephrases, taking a seat in one of the booths. He pulls Renjun into his lap, arms looped tightly around the smaller boy’s waist. Renjun blushes, resting his hands on top of Jaemin’s.

  
“Kun! Get out here before the rolls burn!” Chenle yells over his shoulder as he passes out the bowls of rice. From further back in the kitchen, a sweet-faced young man jogs up to slip on a pair of oven mitts and retrieve a tray of sweet-smelling rolls from the oven.

  
“I got ‘em, don’t worry,” he responds mildly, smiling. “All is well.”

  
“Gimme one.” Jisung leans over the counter, reaching for the tray. Kun steps out of reach. “Not yet, you’ll burn yourself.”

  
“So? Give me the sweet, sweet buns.” Jisung leans further over the counter, but Kun remains out of reach.

  
“Just wait a minute!” He chides gently. Done passing out silverware for the boys to eat with, Chenle bounds over to Jisung and takes his hand. The effect it has on the other boy is obvious and immediate, Jisung’s cheeks reddening vividly as he sinks back into his seat at the counter. Chenle pinches Jisung’s cheek with his free hand before facing Kun.

  
“Thanks for covering for me,” Chenle tells Kun, who waves a hand dismissively. “I don’t mind it. You already thanked me, anyways.”

  
“Listen! I’m thanking you again!”

  
Laughing, Kun sets the tray on the counter to cool. “Fine, you’re welcome. Don’t touch this. It’s still hot,” he gives Jisung a stern look, “Jungwoo’s going with you guys, right?”

  
“Jungwoo’s in love with that tall dude, you’re asking as if he’ll be responsible for us or something.” Chenle glances over his shoulder; sure enough, Jungwoo and Yukhei are deep in their own conversation, staring into each other’s eyes intently. Gross.

  
“Will there be an adult with you?” Kun frets.

  
“I’ve lived in this city my whole life, Kun, we’ll manage. Sixteen is more or less adult,” Jisung reminds, earning an amused snort from Kun, grabbing a bun off of the tray. “Fuck! That’s hot!” He yelps, tossing it from hand to hand.

  
“What did I tell you?” Kun sighs, shoulders slumping defeatedly. Jisung takes a bite of the bun.

  
“Shit, fuck, I burned my tongue.”

  
Jeno picks up a bun, wrapping it carefully in a napkin. Sitting back down in the booth with Jaemin and Renjun, Jeno gently pulls off a piece of the bun, holding it to Renjun’s lips. “Numnums?”

  
“That’s fucking gay.” Renjun leans away.

  
“Eat the fuckin’ numnums, you’re hurting my feelings,” Jeno pouts, so Renjun reluctantly allows the other to feed him.

 

 

 

 

Johnny’s got Taeyong’s legs hooked over the crooks of his elbows, lips attached to his throat as the younger squirms beneath him. Taeyong is whining, head thrown back against the pillow. His hands tug at Johnny’s hair hard enough to hurt, but the elder doesn’t mind much. Done marking the pale skin of Taeyong’s throat, Johnny kisses Taeyong again, breathless and clumsy.

  
There’s muffled voices in the hall, ones Johnny would recognize in his sleep. Groaning, he fumbles for the blanket, throwing it over himself and Taeyong a moment before the door to their hotel room clicks. Still starry-eyed, Taeyong huffs, disgruntled, beneath Johnny. The elder shushes him gently, switches their position so that he can spoon Taeyong, arm tight around his waist. From where he lounges on the other bed, book in hand, Ten laughs under his breath.

  
“We got yelled at for loitering or whatever so no more busking! What to do now, o wise adults?” Jeno marches in, followed by the other boys, but quickly turns on his heel and runs directly into Yukhei in his dash for the door. “Abort! They were fucking!”

  
Ten laughs aloud this time, and Johnny tucks his head into Taeyong’s neck with an exasperated sigh while the other shakes with silent laughter. Yukhei waits for the others to go back to their room before shutting the door, casually collapsing onto the bed beside Ten. Johnny grumbles under his breath about how much he hates young people.

  
“How was your morning?” Ten queries as if two of his boyfriends weren’t bumping uglies less than five feet away, setting his book aside in favor of kissing the top of Yukhei’s head. Ten cards his fingers gently through the younger’s hair, waiting patiently as Yukhei contemplates his answer.

  
“Good,” Yukhei finally responds, scooting closer in order to lay his head on Ten’s chest. “I saw Jungwoo again. He came with us when the guys went busking and we shared a hot chocolate. He blushes every time he holds my hand.”

  
“Jungwoo’s cute. You two are cute together, when are you gonna introduce him to us formally?” Ten teases, delighted with the sweet shade of pink that paints Yukhei’s cheeks.

  
“Not that I don’t want him to meet you guys, he just thinks Johnny’s scary.” Yukhei sits up on his elbows to kiss Ten’s cheek, the corner of his mouth.

  
“Johnny’s just moody, you can tell Jungwoo we don’t bite.” Ten kisses Yukhei square on the lips, beams when the younger turns a delightful shade of pink. Yukhei nods his head, smiling up at Ten.

 

 

 

 

Jeno, Renjun, and Jaemin wandered away in search of a vending machine to loot, leaving Mark and Donghyuck in the hotel room. Donghyuck’s been quiet for most of the morning. Even now, he sits cross-legged on one of the hotel beds, stares out the window with a far away look in his eyes. Clearly deep in thought, Donghyuck brings his hand to his mouth to bite his nails, sighs softly.

  
“Everything alright?” Mark inquires, voice quiet. Donghyuck startles all the same, as if he forgot Mark was there.

  
“Oh. Yeah, I’m fine,” Donghyuck answers unconvincingly, voice lilting. Eyes on the other’s face, Mark tilts his head the side.

  
“You sure? You seem sad.”

  
“I don’t really wanna talk about it now. Regular sad person shit, I won’t bore you.” Donghyuck picks at the skin around his thumbnail, avoiding Mark’s eyes. Mark sits on the edge of the bed, only blushes a little when Donghyuck scoots closer and rests one of his hands on top of Mark’s.

  
“You wouldn’t be boring me, but okay. You can talk to me and stuff.” Mark peers into Donghyuck’s eyes. The other casts his gaze downward, shy. Mark admires the shadows his lashes cast on his cheeks until Donghyuck responds.

  
“If I need to talk about it I will, don’t worry.” Donghyuck smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Mark wants to say that it already seems like Donghyuck needs to talk about it, but he doesn’t get the chance, because the other leans in to kiss Mark.

  
“Sorry,” Donghyuck breathes out, pulling away just an inch or two. “I haven’t kissed a lot of people. It’s fun.”

  
“Don’t apologize. I like kissing you,” Mark responds, a shy smile creeping onto his pink face. Donghyuck reaches up to gently brush Mark’s bangs out of his eyes, a gesture that sends Mark’s heart beating all out of rhythm.

  
“I like kissing you too.” Donghyuck leans in to do it all over again. He pushes gently on Mark’s chest until the other boy lies back on the bed. Donghyuck settles down beside Mark, presses soft kisses to his cheek.

  
“You know, I thought you were way harder than this,” Mark teases, wrapping one arm around Donghyuck’s waist. Giggling, Donghyuck pecks the corner of Mark’s mouth. “I’m suddenly soft ‘cause you get to kiss me now? Don’t get it twisted, puppy-eyed idiot, I’m definitely still a hard motherfucker.”

  
“Hm. Yeah, sure,” Mark laughs, unconvinced. Donghyuck pretends to wring his neck, eyes narrowing.

  
“I didn’t forget how to use that knife, you’re awfully brave.”

  
“Are you gonna stab me?” Mark grins, biting his lower lip to keep from laughing. Muffling his own giggles, Donghyuck shrugs. “If you annoy me, maybe.”

  
“If you actually stabbed people just for annoying you I feel like I’d have obtained way more injuries by this point.” Mark sits up on his elbows and kisses Donghyuck again.

  
“Maybe so. Johnny’s the only person I’ve ever come close to actually stabbing. In recent memory at least.” Donghyuck chews his lower lip thoughtfully, and Mark blanches.

  
“Wait, you have stabbed people?”

  
“Okay, I didn’t stab anyone, but I did threaten to cut this guy’s ear off one time. He tried to go all GTA the bus.” Donghyuck shrugs. Mark gulps.

  
“That’s like, even scarier. But also kinda hot.”

  
“Is now the time that I kinkshame you?”

 

 

 

 

Jaemin walks into the restaurant, beaming proudly as he announces, “We’re here to annoy you all one last time before we peace the fuck out!”

  
“Awesome,” Chenle responds dryly. Jisung is nowhere to be seen, but Jungwoo turns in his seat at the counter, clearly searching for Yukhei.

  
“You’re leaving?” Jungwoo asks softly when Yukhei approaches the elder where he’s sitting at the counter. Glancing over his shoulder at the others, eyes wide and nervous, Yukhei reaches for Jungwoo’s hand, interlaces their fingers. Yukhei feels a warm presence at his side, then hears Taeyong’s soft voice greeting Jungwoo.

  
“Sorry that we didn’t meet you properly before.” Taeyong grins at Jungwoo, whose cheeks flush a faint pink. His lips curl up in a shy smile.

  
“It’s okay,” Jungwoo responds softly, leaning closer. “I’m Jungwoo. You’re pretty..” he trails off, eyes widening slightly when Johnny and Ten approach as well. Yukhei smiles, stepping closer to press a kiss to Jungwoo’s cheek and whisper in his ear, “They’re not as scary as they look, I promise.”

  
Jungwoo wraps his arms around Yukhei’s middle, watching shyly over the younger’s shoulder. Ten beams, nudges Johnny. The elder smiles fondly and slings his arm around Ten’s shoulders.

  
“Hi,” Jungwoo greets softly, voice muffled into Yukhei’s shirt. The younger pats Jungwoo’s thigh until he stands, blinking confusedly at Yukhei. Yukhei simply sits where Jungwoo had been and pulls the other into his lap, chest pressed to Jungwoo’s back.

  
“Wholesome shit. Can I smoke in here?” Johnny cuts his eyes to Chenle, who squints incredulously at the elder.

  
“What do you think?”

  
“Yes? I need my fuckin’ nicotine, brother.”

  
“No. You can’t.”

  
Johnny rolls his eyes, shoving his cigarettes back into his jacket pocket. Ten huffs disapprovingly. “Sorry about him. I’m Ten, babe, it’s nice to meet you,” he tells Jungwoo, who beams and nods his head.

  
“Yeah, you as well,” he answers sweetly, earning a bright grin from Ten. Johnny smiles at Jungwoo as well, one of his rare, real smiles that shows all his teeth, turns his eyes into slits and bunches his cheeks up. Jungwoo relaxes, taking Yukhei’s hand once more.

  
“We’re leaving tomorrow morning,” Johnny begins, looking guilty when Jungwoo’s smile falters. “There’s a few more stops before we take a break from this tour shit, maybe two weeks left. We come back to visit, yeah?”

  
Jungwoo nods his head, bites the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. Finally, turning to look at Yukhei, Jungwoo asks, “Why don’t you just stay? I know it’s really soon, b-but there’s room for one more in my apartment. I want you to stay.”

  
Johnny and Ten share a look with Taeyong, and Yukhei kisses Jungwoo on the cheek, lips lingering against the elder’s skin.

  
“It’s not that easy, is it?” Jungwoo asks, turning to peer into Yukhei’s eyes. The younger leans in to brush his nose against Jungwoo’s, press a sweet kiss to his lips, before giving a small shake of his head.

  
“I’d tell you to come with us, but we can’t fit any more people for the sake of Johnny’s sanity,” Ten takes Johnny’s hand. The elder cringes a little at the thought of traveling with any more people.

  
“We’ll figure something out,” Taeyong reassures, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

  
“Are they just gonna keep collecting boyfriends like Pokemon or something?” Jaemin inquires in an undertone to no one in particular, watching the five elders from where he’s squished into a booth with Jeno halfway in his lap.

  
“I heard that, Jaemin, and you’re a fucking nerd.” Johnny reaches into his pocket for his cigarettes, turns to walk outside. “Wait. Jungwoo. Come with me.”

  
Mark almost wants to laugh, because the way Jungwoo’s smile turns into an expression of fear is similar to how he felt the day he met Johnny and the elder dragged him outside, bitched at Mark until he reassured his parents he was okay.

“I’m not gonna bite your head off. I just wanna talk to you.” Johnny doesn’t bother to check if Jungwoo’s following, as if he already knows the younger will do so without being told again.

  
“Don’t look at me like that, Johnny’s not gonna scare him off,” Ten chides Yukhei gently when the younger turns confused puppy eyes on him, tilting Yukhei’s chin up for a peck on the lips. “We want you to be happy, don’t we?”

  
Yukhei nods his head, glancing nervously towards the windows at the front of the restaurant all the same. They can see Johnny leaning against the glass, Jungwoo’s smaller frame beside him. Smoke rises from by Johnny’s head.

  
“You don’t have to be scared of me. I’m not going to fight you,” Johnny teases Jungwoo gently, cupping a hand around the cigarette in his mouth to light it. “And for the record, you make Yukhei happy, so you’re good in my book anyways.”

  
Jungwoo nods slowly, watching Johnny’s face with a sweet sort of wonder. He wonders what Johnny’s got hidden behind that perfectly crafted mask.

  
“But?” Jungwoo pushes softly. Johnny takes another long drag on his cigarette, and then begins coughing, the kind of cough that comes from deep in your chest and wheezes painfully.

  
“Fuck,” Johnny gasps, voice strained. He bends over, palms on his knees as he tries to regain his breath. “Fuck, that’s not normal. I need to quit smoking. Anywho, Yukhei’s sensitive, okay? I don’t mean like, just a little delicate flower sensitive, either. I mean anxiety, panic attacks and waking up to him screaming and kicking you because of nightmares at three in the morning. You following? He’s a fuckin’ pain in the ass about taking his meds. You have to remind him constantly, and even then he only fuckin’ does it when he feels like it.

  
“Some days he’ll get pissed about everything and yell at you if you touch him. Sometimes he cries all day, and won’t get out of bed and you just have to hold him and tell him he’ll be okay. You gotta reassure Yukhei about a lot of stuff, even if it’s stuff you think is normal, okay?” Johnny glances over at Jungwoo. The younger nods, eyes on Johnny’s.

  
“If you want him to stay with you, are you ready for all of that?” Johnny glares back down at his cigarette, trying to fight the ugly, protective monster that wants to claw its way out of his chest and hold Yukhei close forever.

  
“I had an idea of what he’s going through from the stuff he told me. I know it’s not all gonna be easy and happy 24/7, I’d be an idiot if I really believed that. I still want him to stay, but I know he still loves you guys too. If it’s better for him that he stays with you guys, he should.” Johnny can feel Jungwoo looking at him, so he meets the younger’s eyes again. Jungwoo’s sweet face is sincere, hopeful as he peers up at Johnny.

  
“You’re right, but I guess it’s his decision in the end,” is all Johnny says, finishing his cigarette and tossing the butt aside. Despite his best efforts, that monster is fighting its way up, resenting Jungwoo for being the reason Yukhei smiles so brightly now. Then, Johnny’s stomach lurches unpleasantly with the guilt of being jealous over something like that.

  
“It’s cold, you can stay out here ‘n freeze if you want but I’m gonna go back in.” Johnny turns towards the door, reaching towards the handle. When Jungwoo blinks back at him, Johnny pulls the door open, shoulders slumped. “Kid. It’s a joke.”

  
“What did you say?” Yukhei interrogates Johnny as soon as the elder reenters the restaurant after Jungwoo.

  
“We discussed the weather. It’s a little crisp out, no?” Johnny skirts around the question easily.

  
“Johnny. Seriously.” Yukhei stands up, pink lips pouting. The elder smiles cryptically, pressing a kiss to Yukhei’s cheek. “Don’t worry about it. Do you want to stay?”

  
Yukhei’s eyes widen in surprise at Johnny’s forthrightness, and the blunt question catches Ten and Taeyong’s attention as well. The younger peers from Johnny, to Jungwoo. Yukhei’s likely piecing together that this is what Johnny talked to Jungwoo about outside. Reaching for Johnny’s hand, Yukhei nods slowly, staring down at his shoes guiltily.

  
“Don’t feel bad,” Johnny murmurs, tilting Yukhei’s chin up to look the younger in the eyes. “We’ll still visit, you can’t get rid of us that easily.”

  
Yukhei bites his lower lip as a smile threatens at his cheeks, and Johnny squeezes his hand. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself. Like, seriously, fuckin’ promise. Take your meds and call us if you need anything at all.”

  
“I promise,” Yukhei reassures softly. Placing the hand that isn’t linked with the elder’s on the back of Johnny’s neck, Yukhei pulls him in for a kiss. In turn, Johnny holds Yukhei closer, hands on the younger’s hips.

  
“Gay,” Renjun calls, hand cupped around his mouth.

  
“Fuck off,” Johnny grumbles.

 

 

 

 

“Alright, we’re gonna..hit the road, I guess.” Ten’s trying to keep the lilt in his tone to a minimum, forcing a smile. Johnny gave up on doing as much a while ago, disappearing somewhere to sulk. Taeyong went to find him, wanting Johnny to say a real goodbye to Yukhei.

  
“Be safe, okay?” Yukhei pulls Ten into a tight hug, lifting the shorter off the floor. Ten tucks his face into Yukhei’s chest, arms tight around the younger boy’s neck.

  
“You take care of yourself,” Ten reminds in a whisper. Yukhei squeezes him just a little tighter before lowering Ten back to the floor, not fully letting go of the elder until Ten pulls back, allows the others to say goodbye.

  
“What ever are we gonna do without our shitty guitar tech?” Jaemin complains, voice dripping in sarcasm. Johnny elbows him in the ribs, and Jaemin grunts, rubbing the offended spot. “You could’ve just said now’s not the time..”

  
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me with these people,” Renjun whispers in Yukhei’s ear as he hugs the elder. Yukhei leans down, whispers in response, “You’ll live. Make sure you’re eating.”

  
“Only if you take your meds,” murmurs Renjun before he returns to the warm cocoon that is Jaemin’s arms, allowing the other to wrap him up in his jacket like a blanket. Yukhei squints at Renjun, expression clear as day to the younger. _Keep your promise or I won’t keep mine, fair?_

 

 

 

 

It’s been a couple of hours since they drove out of the city, Yukhei’s absence all too obvious. Ten and Taeyong nap together in the back seat while Johnny drives. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Johnny notices that Ten’s wearing one of Yukhei’s old hoodies, a worn thing many sizes too big for Ten. Ten’s got his nose buried in the fabric, frowning even as he sleeps. Johnny’s thankful that Ten and Taeyong are asleep, because the tears can finally flow unhindered. His throat feels all tight, and Johnny sniffles quietly, trying not to wake either of his boyfriends.

  
Johnny drives like that for a while, crying silently. Johnny’s done, cool façade built back up by the time he awakens Ten and Taeyong at a rest stop. Ten doesn’t miss the elder’s red, swollen eyes, but he doesn’t say anything, just holds Johnny’s hand tightly on the way inside.

  
The boys are oddly quiet, solemn, as well. Renjun peers up at Johnny, looking somewhat like a lost puppy, and Johnny sighs, wrapping an arm around the kid. “Yeah. I know.”

  
“Who’s hungry?” Ten asks, leaning his head on Taeyong’s shoulder. There’s weak affirmations from everyone, so Ten follows them to pick out snacks. Taeyong trails after Ten, but not before shooting Johnny a concerned look over his shoulder. The eldest is backing towards the exit, feeling in his pockets for his cigarettes.

  
“Be right back,” Johnny mouths to Taeyong, who offers a miniature smile in return.

  
The tip of Johnny’s tongue stings unpleasantly every time he smokes nowadays. The back of his throat, too, a reminder of just how badly he’s fucking his body up. With that in mind, Johnny drags just a little more harshly on his last cigarette, tossing the empty cardboard pack in a nearby trashcan. A different family comes out of the doors to his left, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Johnny ignores the offhanded, nervous glances they spare for him, blowing out a cloud of smoke in a big sigh.

  
“Hey. Come get something to eat.” Ten catches one of the doors before it swings shut entirely, leaning out of the building to frown at Johnny. The elder nods distractedly, puffing on the cigarette.

  
“You know, I can read you easier than you think. It’s insulting that you think I don’t know what you’re doing right now.” Ten steps outside fully, leans against the building beside Johnny. Johnny laughs a little. “Tell me, then. What am I doing? I thought I was just having a smoke.”

  
“You act like a smartass so no one will want to worry about you, for starters. Cut it out. You’re my boyfriend. That doesn’t work on me. Second of all, you do the same thing every time you’re upset. You avoid everyone. You’ve been out here smoking this one cigarette for ten minutes, you normally go through five in that time.”

  
“This is my last cigarette,” Johnny argues feebly. Ten shushes him, continuing, “You know you avoid everyone? It’s like, a unanimously agreed-upon Johnny Thing. Yeah, every time you’re upset you go off to hide like a fucking wounded animal until you’re able to come back and pretend well enough that you aren’t still hurting, and isn’t that tiring? Isn’t that what you have us for? Like, I know we’re no therapists, but we’re here, and we always have been.

  
“I can’t force you to put out your nasty-ass cigarettes and play counselor and patient with the rest of us. I don’t want to. But you need to start realizing you’re not alone, and stop convincing yourself you have to deal with all this shit this way.” Ten pulls the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands. Johnny stares down at his shoes, flicking ash off the end of his dying cigarette. He drags on the remainder of tobacco before flicking the cigarette butt away.

  
“I have too much other shit to worry about to pause and really consider all my options, coping-mechanism-wise,” Johnny grumbles. “I’m managing, okay?”

  
“Why are you fine with just managing? Don’t you want to flourish?” Ten asks, voice gentle. Johnny doesn’t answer, and eventually the younger stands up on his toes to press a long, affectionate kiss to Johnny’s temple. “I love you, okay? It won’t hurt forever.”

  
As Ten turns to walk back inside, the familiar smell of Yukhei’s cologne drifts off of his hoodie, catches Johnny’s attention. He almost looks around for Yukhei out of instinct, then suffers an empty ache in his chest upon remembering that the younger isn’t here anymore, that Yukhei is hundreds of miles behind them now.

  
Sighing, Johnny heads back inside to find the others. Ten was right, whether he wants to admit it to himself or not. Johnny’s quiet when he joins them at the two tables the boys pushed together to fit everyone, taking a seat between Taeyong and Ten.

  
“You stink.” Ten hands Johnny a warm Starbucks cup, steam coming from the hole in the lid. “Let it cool off–or just drink it and burn your fucking throat, Johnathan.”

  
Johnny had taken a large sip, desperate to get the chemical cigarette taste out of his mouth, and stop the tingling at the tip of his tongue. At least now his whole mouth burns. Ten’s staring at him bemusedly, and Johnny grins back, coughing once, twice.

  
“He’s acting like a crackhead because Aquarius season is approaching,” Renjun supplies helpfully, sipping his green tea. Ten’s eyes widen, and he scoots his chair a few inches further away from Johnny.

  
“That was just uncalled for.” Johnny sips his drink once more. Now that he can taste again, he can tell it’s hot chocolate, and his grin returns. Ten moves closer once more, kissing the elder’s cheek. “Nah. We still love you.”

  
Johnny feels Taeyong press a kiss to his opposite cheek, and he laughs, flustered. “You better. I love you guys too,” he adds, turning to pepper Taeyong’s face with kisses until the younger giggles and leans away.

  
“Alright, we should probably hit the road again,” Ten suggests, stretching. “You want me to drive?” he squeezes Johnny’s thigh under the table, and the elder nods, leaning over to kiss the top of Ten’s head.

 

 

 

 

The remainder of the tour passes in a blur. At their final concert, Jaemin snaps a string on his guitar in the middle of a song, and Mark is forced to Google how to replace it on the spot.

  
“You don’t know how to fix your own guitar?” Mark asks, eyes following the YouTube video on the phone Taeyong holds up helpfully for him. Jaemin shrugs, watching Mark clumsily fix the new string in place. “No, not really. Can you hurry?”

  
“I’m gonna go slower because you said that.”

  
“Fuck you! How long does it take?” Jaemin laughs. Mark can hear Donghyuck onstage, interacting with the crowd, keeping them entertained until Jaemin can return.

  
“I’m almost done, pissbaby. Here.” Mark passes Jaemin his guitar, and the other shoots him a bright grin.

  
"You’re the best, asshole!” Jaemin slings the guitar strap across his shoulder and lopes back out onto the stage. Mark leans back in his chair, smiling at Taeyong. “Thanks, you helped too.”

  
“It’s nothing. How are you doing?” Taeyong tilts his head to the side. When Mark’s expression turns to one of confusion, the elder smiles and messes with the bracelets on one of his wrists. “Here. With us. Fitting in, you know?”

  
“Oh. Alright, I guess.” Mark shrugs his shoulders, and Taeyong rolls his eyes. “Generic. Be honest.”

  
“I dunno, I didn’t run away or come into this group with any expectations, I’m just living each day as it comes and goes. I like it, being here with you guys, if that’s what you mean. I really like Donghyuck,” Mark admits, cheeks reddening. Taeyong grins, laughs quietly, “Cute. Glad you like it here.”

  
“Yeah..” Mark trails off, staring down at his hands distractedly. Taeyong pats him on the shoulder before standing, loping away to meet Johnny as the elder comes from further down the hall. He’s knocking a fresh pack of cigarettes against his palm, tossing it from hand to hand. Johnny looks like he’s biting his tongue, brow wrinkled into a frown, but it smooths out when he sees Taeyong.

  
Mark turns his attention back to the band. From where he’s sitting backstage, he can see all of them but Jeno. Mark can certainly hear the silver-haired drummer banging away on his kit, with even more vigor than usual in honor of it being their final show. The concert is high-energy right up until the end, where they finish it with a not-half-bad guitar and drum solo from Jaemin and Jeno, respectively. The crowd calls for an encore, to which Donghyuck shouts, “Fuck no! I’m tired! Goodnight, thank you all for coming!”

  
Mark takes Donghyuck’s guitar to place it back in its case as the other walks offstage. Donghyuck grins at Mark, sweat shining on his golden skin. “Thanks.”

  
“Yeah. You did well,” Mark responds, too shy to meet Donghyuck’s eyes. He hears Donghyuck’s quiet giggling as he leans over to latch the guitar case shut, glances over his shoulder at the other. Donghyuck beams, pushing his damp hair off of his forehead. “Thank you. Fuckin cutie, you’re all shy and you’re the one doing the complimenting.”

  
Mark’s response is lost when Donghyuck kisses him, long and sweet. He only pulls away when the others shuffle backstage as well. Renjun’s leaning on a frowning Jaemin, while Jeno carries both of their guitars. As Mark helps Jeno put them away, Donghyuck assists Renjun to the couch backstage.

  
“Everything okay?” Donghyuck queries, looking from Renjun to Jaemin. Jaemin simply peers around, chewing on his lower lip. “Johnny! Ten!”

  
“It’s not that serious,” Renjun protests, though his voice is worryingly faint. “I’m just kinda lightheaded.”

  
“You promised us you’d eat more,” Jaemin reminds, and Renjun curls his knees up to his chest. They show through the holes in his jeans, bony and thin. Renjun avoids Jaemin’s eyes as he mutters, “I didn’t say how much more.”

  
“Is this a joke to you?” Jeno’s voice cracks, and he frowns at Renjun. “I-I don’t wanna yell at you, but it’s like you don’t even want to get better. I know recovery is scary but what’s your other option, Renjun? How much longer can you keep this up? You-you’re like, ninety-something pounds, I want you to live past seventeen!”

  
Eyes wide and shining with tears, Renjun wraps his arms around his legs, hugging them more tightly to his chest. Voice small, he responds, “You’re right.”

  
“What’s up?” Johnny appears, Ten at his side. As Jeno sits down beside Renjun, Johnny takes in Renjun’s pale skin, bony hands at the ends of thin arms. He doesn’t just look disappointed, he also appears scared, and maybe that’s worse.

  
“Renjun..” Ten’s voice reflects the expression on Johnny’s face. If it weren’t for the current circumstances, Renjun would laugh at how in sync they are. He stares down at the rips in his jeans so he can avoid Ten’s gaze.

  
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like every time I try to stop it gets worse, and I can’t.”

  
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” Jeno’s voice is quiet, but stern as he wraps his arms around Renjun, holding the elder tightly.

  
“Right, Renjun,” Ten agrees quietly, kneeling before Renjun so he can look the younger in the eye. “There isn’t anything wrong with you. We’re going home, and I think you should see a doctor, okay?”

  
The panic must show on Renjun’s face, because Ten takes his hand. “You’re not gonna get sent away or anything, I promise. No one’s sticking a tube up your nose. We just want you to be healthy, okay?”

  
Slowly, Renjun nods, weak when he squeezes Ten’s hand. Ten offers a hopeful smile. “We love you, kid. Remember that.”

 

 

 

 

The ride home is a long one. They forgo visiting Yukhei, for Renjun’s sake. As Mark drives, Donghyuck tells him that “home” is actually Ten’s house, because everyone in their little group either doesn’t belong at home or simply doesn’t have one to call their own. Donghyuck’s eyes are sympathetic when he says this, and Mark takes one hand off the wheel, resting it palm-up on the arm rest for the other to take. Mark smiles faintly when he feels Donghyuck’s fingers interlace with his.

  
In the back of the bus, Renjun sleeps on the futon with his head in Jaemin’s lap. Renjun’s wearing in one of Jeno’s hoodies, practically swimming in the oversized garment. Once the dark-haired boy fell asleep, Jeno had draped a blanket over him as well.

  
Seated across from the two, Jeno taps gently on his knees with his drumsticks, expression troubled. He doesn’t even notice Jaemin studying his face, expression sleepy yet fond. The hum of the bus is almost-but-not-quite lulling Jaemin to sleep as well, but he keeps his eyes on Jeno’s face, follows the line of the silver-haired boy’s furrowed brow down to his nose, to frowning lips. Jaemin scan’s Jeno’s face like this so many times he loses count, and eventually Jeno notices the younger staring. He glances up, meets Jaemin’s eyes.

  
“Hi,” mouths Jaemin, offering a weak smile. Jeno returns it, waving back at his boyfriend. He twirls a drumstick in his other hand, fidgeting without even realizing it.

  
“Hey.” Jeno shuffles to the space between the front seats. “How much longer? I’m losing it back here.”

  
“By all means, you can drive then,” is Mark’s response. Donghyuck snorts, checking his phone. “Ten says two more hours.”

  
Jeno gives a dissatisfied huff and returns to his seat, going back to drumming on his knees. His shifting about had awoken Renjun, who peers at Jeno with sleepy eyes. The other boy offers a smile.

  
“Morning, sleepy,” Jeno teases. Renjun sits up, leaning into Jaemin’s side and closing his eyes once more as his head falls onto Jaemin’s shoulder. “How much longer?” he mumbles.

  
“Couple hours,” Jaemin answers, laughing. Renjun heaves a sigh, settling down to go back to sleep.

 

 

 

 

nine months later

  
It’s funny, how anywhere becomes home once you make it home. Mark thinks about this as he prepares the coffeemaker for tomorrow morning, makes sure there’s enough for all eight boys.

  
“There’s too many people here,” Mark mumbles to himself. “I really should get my own place.”

  
“Tell me about it. I was actually gonna talk to you about an apartment or something. We’re both eighteen now and all, and working pretty solid jobs, and I have some money saved up since this band stuff started gaining more traction..we could be roommates with the fuckheads, too, make it more affordable or whatever. It was just a thought, me ‘n Jaemin were talking about it earlier..” Donghyuck waves his hand dismissively, staring down at the floor. A grin spreads across Mark’s face as he hits a few buttons on the coffeemaker and waits on it to beep before turning to face Donghyuck.

  
“I’m into it,” Mark says, and Donghyuck looks up, eyes wide. “Wait, really?”

  
“Yeah, really. We’ll talk about it more in the morning, though, I’m beat.” Mark walks towards the hallway to their room, taking Donghyuck’s hand to pull the other along with him.

  
“I have a question.” Donghyuck crawls into bed. Mark joins him under the covers, holding his arms out for Donghyuck. Once he’s snuggled close, head on Mark’s chest, Donghyuck asks, “Would you ever go back home? Even just to visit?”

  
“No,” Mark laughs quietly. “That’s not home anymore.”

  
“Really?”

  
“Really. I have you. The other guys are my family now. Why would I go back? I wasn’t happy there, I hadn’t been for a long time.” Mark plays with Donghyuck’s hair. The other boy had just recently abandoned his bright red dye job for a darker mahogany color.

  
“You’re happy here?” Donghyuck lifts his head to smile at Mark, eyes hopeful. Mark nods, returning the smile. “Of course I am.”

 

 

In the next room over, Renjun frowns at himself in the mirror hanging off the closet door, bunching the fabric of his sweater up to peer at his abdomen. Renjun’s hipbones don’t jut out, sharp and nearly painful-looking anymore, and the formerly concave dip of his stomach is now filled out, the ridges of his ribs just hardly visible beneath his skin. Dropping his sweater, Renjun instead chooses to pinch his cheek, feel how it’s become chubbier once more, something he hasn’t felt in a long time. There’s color to his skin again, pink blooming beneath the spot on his cheek where Renjun had pinched.

  
“Everything okay?” Jeno walks into the bedroom in just sweatpants, scrubbing his damp black hair with a towel. Renjun shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”

  
“You guess? What’s up?” Jeno digs through the dresser, pulls on a shirt belonging to Jaemin. Renjun shrugs. “It’s nothing. This is taking some getting used to, I guess.”

  
Renjun gestures to his reflection, and Jeno walks over to look as well. “You look healthy again. It’s good to see.”

  
As he says this, Jeno winds an arm around Renjun’s waist, kissing his temple. Jaemin’s already fast asleep in bed, and Jeno nods towards him. “Let’s make like that one and get some rest, okay?”

  
Nodding, Renjun crawls into the bed behind Jaemin, taking one of the other boy’s hands. Jeno kisses the top of Renjun’s head as he gets into bed as well, sandwiching the smallest boy between himself and Jaemin. “We love you, and we’re so glad you’re doing better, okay? I’m proud of you, Jaemin’s proud of you, so are the others.”

  
Renjun feels his cheeks heat up, and he nods. Jeno kisses his head one last time. “Just making sure you know. Night, babe.”

  
“Love you,” Renjun whispers as Jeno turns the lamp off, plunging the room into darkness.

 

 

“We miss you too, babe. Everything’s going well there?” Taeyong holds the phone between his ear and shoulder as he takes a bowl, empty save for unpopped popcorn kernels, from the living room to the kitchen.

  
“Yeah, things are great. I’m working in the restaurant with Chenle and Kun, Jungwoo’s still working in the library. We’re saving to come visit again soon, Yongie.” Even over the phone, Yukhei sounds bright, chipper, just happy, and Taeyong beams at the sound.

  
“You guys are always welcome, you know that. I’d let you say hi to Ten and Johnny, but they fell asleep while drunk-marathoning Jersey Shore.” Taeyong returns to the living room to look at his two boyfriends. Johnny’s stretched out on the couch, Ten lying on his chest. Both boys are half asleep, and an empty wine bottle sits on the coffee table along with their wine glasses. (Well, Ten’s wine glass, and the mug Johnny had chosen to sip his out of.)

  
On the other line, Yukhei laughs. “That’s okay. How are they doing?”

  
“Good. Ten finally convinced Johnny to quit smoking for good, thank god,” Taeyong smiles a little. Yukhei gasps. “Really? Tell Johnny I’m proud.”

  
“He’ll be glad to hear that from you,” Taeyong responds.

  
“You know, everything worked out. It’s funny. I never saw things ending up this way and still being good, but they’re great. They’re better than great, actually.” Yukhei sighs. “I’m worn out, you probably are too, so I’m gonna let you go to bed, Yong. Tell everyone hi from me, okay?”

  
“Of course, you do the same. Love you, Yukhei, sleep well,” Taeyong smiles. Yukhei gives him one last goodnight and love you too before the call ends.

  
Taeyong doesn’t bother trying to get Johnny and Ten to come to bed when theyre already fast asleep. He simply kisses them on the heads and continues down the hall, checking in on the boys as well. By now, Taeyong’s the only one awake, and he appreciates the still, quiet atmosphere of the house. Not as much as when it bustles with life, thrumming with eight vibrant souls, but this has its own beauty. Taeyong reaches his bedroom and sits on the bed for a while, studying how the gray moonlight streams through the slats in the blinds. He soaks in the quiet until he falls asleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> if u liked this story pls leave a comment! writers rely on feedback and it would be much appreciated <3  
> yell at me on twitter @honeyboyjeno


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